


An Officer And A Gentleman

by Jamz24



Category: SKAM (Norway), SKAM (TV), SKAM (TV) RPF
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, And a sappy big-ass romcom ending cuz I'm that bitch, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Evak AU, Evak Smut, F/F, F/M, Hate Sex, Humour, Inappropriate relationship lol, Insulting each other during sex, Light Dom/sub, Lots and lots of hate to love banging, M/M, Masc-Masc banging, Mutual Masturbation, Pining, Reverse Big Bang Challenge, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, SKAM, Vers!Even, Vers!Isak, army fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-22 17:43:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15587259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jamz24/pseuds/Jamz24
Summary: Isak Valtersen and Even Bech Naesheim are the two best cadets at Oslo Military Academy - but they hate each other's guts. When they're stranded together in a snowy wilderness they have to work together to survive - but CAN they? And what else will they end up doing?! :-DArmy Enemies to Lovers AU in which Isak wants to be an officer, but Even is no gentleman ;) Title stolen from the classic film/ musical.Cue plot, intense competitiveness, angst, fights, insults, sexual tension and lots of smut. Enjoy!





	1. "Don't Make Me Call Him 'Sir' "

**Author's Note:**

> So … not a lot of you know this but I did 3 months officer training when I was 18 and the Army did a big diversity drive in our school. I ultimately decided it wasn’t for me (I’m Jonas in this fic lol) but I had a lot of fun and I’ve always wanted to write a Skam Army fic, so when the opportunity came up on the Skam Reverse Bang 2018 I jumped at the chance!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak's about to lead the all-important graduation field mission from the Krigsskolen Military Academy - and he's not impressed to find out that Army brat Even Bech Naesheim has just been put on his team...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the end of the Krigsskolen (Oslo Military Academy) officer training course, cadets undertake a gruelling field-mission in the Norwegian wilderness in order to graduate. Coming first in the mission confers many honours on the winning team & captain. (I've used a lot of dramatic licence here for reasons that you'll discover!)
> 
> Upon graduating, cadets become officers in the Norwegian Army. Men and women serve alongside each other and there is an anti-discrimination policy against LGBTQ ppl. Norway has mandatory military service for all young people, but you can opt out on grounds of conscience.

**LOCATION: RONDANE MOUNTAINS, NORWAY**

**MANDAG 17 MARS**

**LOCAL TIME: 0600**

[ ](https://ibb.co/eHzzVe)

The deafening clatter of a Cherokee two-propeller helicopter echoed over the huge, snow-capped mountains of eastern Norway. Despite the clear blue sky, icy winds had picked up since lift-off and the machine juddered and bounced in the “bumps” – pockets of warmer air swept up from the heat of the towns below where it met the gusts of colder air coming down from the Arctic Circle. Soon there was nothing below the chopper but acres of wintry white peaks sweeping for countless miles in every direction, and here and there great plumes of powdery snow spiralled into the air in flurries.

Inside the helicopter, hunched up against the grey metal of the launching bay, Isak squatted, one gloved hand on the slipdoor in readiness. On his back was a Bergen backpack with jerrycan, dried ration packs, a radio set, survival kit and his poling gear. His padded helmet and snow-weather goggles were strapped over his cropped, tufted hair, and his breath clouded in the subzero temperatures that filled the aircraft. He sent a quick, critical glance over to the rest of his team where they sat opposite him, dressed identically in extreme-weather army fatigues and boots.

Their pilot Christoffer Schistad’s voice came over the AV. “Drop time for Telemark team, five minutes and counting down. Squad captain, prepare to brief your troops. Over.”

“Briefing in progress, pilot, over and out.” replied Isak. He adjusted his radio mike that connected him with the team – with the deafening roar from the Cherokee’s engines no one could otherwise hear each other speak. Although they all knew the system of hand gestures that would serve them for communication if their batteries ran down in the freezing altitudes, now was the time to brief them in person.

His squad – Yousef Acar, Magnus Fossbakken, Chris Berg and Noora Saertre – gazed at him expectantly, bristling with expectation like dogs about to be set off the leash. Isak knew that look; the winner’s instinct was essential in Army manoeuvres like these, and what they needed was a calm, collected captain to harness that instinct and lead them to victory.

“Team Telemark, do you all read me?”

“Yes, sir!” replied a jumble of voices in his ear and Isak nodded shortly, holding up a hand for silence. “This wilderness of snow beneath us are the mountains of the Rondane Nasjonalpark. Our mission is to parachute in on the slopes of Storronden Ridge, hack eastwards by foot to the peak of Gravskardhøgda and construct a radio transmitting station there, all in the shortest possible time.

“As we know, we’re up against two other teams from the Krigsskolen –” at this there was a groan of assembled catcalls and booing in his ear and he held up a gloved finger to check them –  “yes, and they'll be hot on our heels, so the race is on.

“Terrain below is extreme winter weather conditions, it’s mainly hilly peaks with some woods and some iced-over lakes so we’ll do most cross-country on pole skis, pulling our pulks with us. It’s a twenty-nine hour hack even in good weather, so we’ll have to build dug-outs as overnight shelters. Once we reach Gravskardhøgda we’ll assemble the radio and transmit our position. Schistad will be standing by with a BV at Terningmoen barracks; upon receipt of our radio message and location he’ll come to collect us and take us to back to base. First team through the gates wins. And who’s that team going to be?” He looked around at the faces staring at him through their iced-up goggles. “It’s going to be us, isn’t it!”

“Yes sir!” chorused his team with one voice.

Isak raised a gloved hand to his ear. “Are we going to beat the two other teams from Krigsskolen?”

“YES SIR YES SIR!” roared his team enthusiastically, all save one.

The fifth member of the team sat hunched apart, glaring down at the floor. Isak turned towards him and raised his voice. “Cadet Bech Naesheim! Who’s going to be the first team back to Terningmoen barracks?”

Even pushed back his goggles and turned his blue gaze unwillingly on Isak, his face a noncommittal mask. “Us, I guess, yeah.”

“Yes _what?”_ Isak felt himself getting irritated, _calm down_ , his rational brain thought to himself, _don’t let him get under your skin_. But his fuming lips didn’t get the memo, and before he could stop himself he’d leaned forward, fingers trembling a little in mingled pride and anger. “What was that, Cadet Naesheim?”

“Yes, _Captain_ Valtersen,” replied Even in a sneering, offhand voice, a slight smirk on his lips. “We’re going to be the first team back to the Winter War School.”

Isak scowled at him, his stomach feeling slightly unsettled in the way it always did when Even acted up like that, but at that moment Schistad’s voice came across the AV. “Briefing time now complete, Telemark squad, prepare your jumping positions please. Over.”

“Received and understood, pilot,” returned Isak, shooting Even a furious look as he switched off the radio mike, performing the series of hand signals to indicate the order in which the team would exit the aircraft.

 _Damn you, Bech Naesheim_ , he thought angrily to himself as he hauled back the hatch and signalled for his first squaddie to take their dive. _You’re the one person I didn’t want in my squad, and you’re the one person who could cost us this win._

 

***

**LOCATION: OSLO KRIGSSKOLEN TRAINING ACADEMY**

**TORSDAG 29 FEBRUAR @ 1800**

“Why’s Valtersen going to be squad captain?” snapped Even, his blue eyes blazing in fury from under his cadet’s cap pulled low over his forehead.

“What do you mean, _why’s Valtersen going to be squad captain_?” Isak rapped back at him. “Because my officer training scores are one of the highest in our form! Because the last time we did a cross-country run I was in the top three, and my team finished first on the wall-building exercise!”

Even shot him down with a glance. “And my presentation on enemy cluster positions was the highest-graded in our year, and my team always finish first on munitions prep.”

“Oooh,” taunted Isak with barely restrained fury. “The cleaning exercise. Yeah, I bet with all that practice your wrist gets you can really make your rifle shine –”

Captain Dahl hit the desk before him with his knuckles. “Quiet, both of you! Any more of this and you’ll be demoted from the graduation programme altogether!”

Isak and Even jumped to attention immediately and saluted. “Yes sir!”

Dahl threw a furious glance at them. “I don’t understand. You are two of the best cadets in your year and yet you persist in not working together. You do realise that this upcoming field mission will determine whether you graduate from Krigsskolen or not?”

“YES SIR!” barked Isak and Even in chorus.

“Well then, I expect you to behave accordingly, not merely as officers, but as gentlemen too!”

Even stared impassively in front of him as Dahl started to lecture them angrily, but Isak bit his lip and gazed at the floor.

Inwardly he knew he couldn’t afford not to graduate. The military programme at Oslo’s War School had been Isak’s saving grace after he dropped out of Nissen with a year to go, no home to live in, no family and no money to his name. If he could only graduate, he would automatically be promoted to second lieutenant in the Norwegian Army, which meant a job, a purpose, and most importantly, somewhere to live and call home.

“I apologise, sir,” put in Even with an effort as Dahl’s dressing-down drew to a close, “but as you know, I had originally been made captain of Bergen team, and it wasn’t my fault that my team had to be reallocated.”

Two cadets in Bergen team had come down with food poisoning on the eve of the field mission and three alone were not enough to run a squad despite Even’s protests, so Dahl had decided to allocate one remaining cadet to each of the existing teams of Stavanger, Narvik and Telemark – and as luck would have it, Even had been reallocated to Isak’s Telemark team – or demoted, as he evidently saw it.

Isak knew that the slight would have been even harder to bear because Even’s girlfriend Sonja was also leading the rival team of Stavanger, and Isak’s best friend Sana Bakkoush was commanding Krigsskolen’s Narvik team.

“It seems to me,” put in Lieutenant Tryggvason from the corner where he had been leaning, “that this is exactly the test that is needed. Are you two able to put aside your differences and work together for the common good? Will you issue and take orders for the success of your squad rather than your own pride? Because, as you know, that is what being in the Army is all about.”

Even swallowed with a gigantic effort and Isak could see his fingers trembling out of the corner of his eye. “Yes, sir.”

“Dismissed,” returned Commander Dahl and pushed his chair back from his desk. Even saluted, stepped back smartly and marched furiously from the room.

As he exited, Isak could swear that he could hear Even muttering, “Just don’t make me call him _sir_.”

“One piece of advice.” Captain Tryggvason stepped forward to forestall Isak’s departure. “You’re a good Plan A soldier, Valtersen, but officers always have to think of a Plan B. When things go wrong – and they will out there, in subzero temperatures and difficult terrain – that’s what you struggle with. Naesheim’s a brilliant cadet, but he’s also unpredictable and he’ll need good leadership. This is your test, Valtersen. Can you rise to the challenge of captain?”

Isak felt his eyes prickle and his skin heat up at Tryggvason’s words. He knew he was a good officer cadet – he had a keen brain, skilled at working out logistics and planning. He could hold a huge amount of information in his head such as directions, coordinates, the way to build, make and assemble things, often from scratch. In most of the Army manoeuvres he was the MVP of a team, always there with a vision and a suggestion to help things go smoothly.

Whereas Even was the brilliant maverick leader type, always able to switch plans half way through or come up with an ingenious solution to a remarkable problem. He also had this facility to make everyone _watch_ him – a kind of magnetic charm that could pull you round to his point of view even though you knew it was a bad idea – with one of _those_ smiles he could _inspire_ people, he was the type that would make you feel you’d go into enemy fire for him, into the face of hell if he wished it, and that was the most valuable thing an officer on the ground could possess.

Isak _hated_ that Even could make him feel that way – on the one hand he envied that charm – envied it badly – but it was this irresistible pull towards him that he hated the most of all.

“Valtersen,” said Tryggvason gently. “We wouldn’t have made you captain unless we thought you’d got it in you. Is there anything else – anything between you and Naesheim that is getting in the way of working together?”

“No sir,” lied Isak, his heart heavy – fuck, where would he even _start_ – and Tryggvason winked.  “Okay then. Don’t let me down, Squad Captain.”

Isak saluted and stalked after Even through the mess door, instantly turning in the opposite direction so he wouldn’t have to see _that_ tall figure walking in front of him with its confident, slender bearing or the toss of his short fair hair that he absolutely most definitely wasn’t staring at right now.

He blew out his cheeks. Whatever happened, he would have to get through the upcoming field mission with Naesheim intact. Krigsskolen had been his big chance and he couldn’t fuck graduating now, not when he’d come so far.

Tryggvason was right. Isak was good at planning and strategizing, he knew that.

The one thing he couldn’t plan and strategise was Even Bech Naesheim.

 

***

**LOCATION: RONDANE MOUNTAINS, NORWAY**

**TIME: MANDAG 17 MARS @ 0800**

A freezing blast of air erupted around Isak driving all thoughts from his mind as he ducked his head and flung himself spread-eagled out of the trapdoor underneath the Cherokee, seeing the white fields below suddenly spin and circle as he plummeted through the air. Adrenalin coursed through his veins – this was always his favourite part – parachuting was a rush that no drug would ever come close to. Automatically he counted to ten before the snap and shock of his parachute opening suddenly brought him up short, and he dropped his hand from the emergency toggle. He’d never have a parachute fail on him before, but the drill was always to expect the unexpected.

Floating down through the icy air, borne up as if by a huge white cloud, he guided the ropes of his parachute to where he could see the rest of his team already dotted around the lower slopes of Storronden ridge, struggling to pull their parachutes off and roll them up. As this was a live exercise, the first thing they would have to do was bury their parachutes – they would have to conceal them if parachuting into hostile territory – so the team could be seen digging busily into the snow to complete stage one of their task. Even at this distance he could pick out Even, the tallest figure of the group – already completing his parachute disposal, large gloved hands scooping great holes in the snow –

_Focus, Isak!_

The ground was shooting up towards him oddly fast and Isak kicked himself; he hadn’t been concentrating to angle his landing right. If he hit the ground at this speed he could be confident of sustaining a twisted ankle at the least.

And the last thing they all needed was a captain with injury in the first five minutes because guess who would be taking over the squad then –

With a last-minute jerk he pulled on the parachute ropes to change course, found himself dragged across the snow by a gust of wind and then there was a savage ripping sound as sharp branches poked through the canopy of his parachute and he slewed to a stop.

He swore inwardly. _Fuck_. His last minute turn had taken him into a small, scrubby line of trees, where he hung ignominiously from the higher branches, suspended by his straps, his dangling snow-boots a few feet from the ground.

“Well hello up there, captain,” Even’s voice floated up to him. “Need a hand?”

Isak kicked at him crossly. “I’m fine. I just need –” and he swung round again helplessly – “I just need to unbuckle myself.”

But his straps were twisted and his gloved fingers were unable to release the catch so he circled round and round, hanging from the branches like a decoration on a Christmas tree, swearing under his breath.

This was _not_ the start he had envisaged.

Even looked at him inscrutably as he took out his Swiss Army knife, put it between his teeth and started to scale the lower branches towards him. Isak clutched at it as Even drew near – the last thing he wanted was fucking _Cadet Naesheim_ saving him – “Pass it here, cadet,” he gasped. “I can cut myself free.”

The taller cadet smirked. “I think that’s unlikely, _Captain Valtersen_ ,” as he reached above Isak and made a few practiced slashes at the ropes. The next moment Isak was bumping and skidding down the trunk to fall in a heap in the snowmound at the bottom of the tree and Even was climbing down after him.

Isak forced himself to his feet – the rest of his team had all finished their camouflage exercise and were wading towards him – and waved a hand at Even.

“Bring the parachute down from the tree, cadet!”

Even stopped short and gazed at him curiously. “You want _me_ – to take _your_ parachute down for you?”

“Yes, cadet,” rapped Isak angrily. “We’ll get marks deducted if we leave it visible and as squad captain my priority is to brief the team. Your orders, Naesheim, are to retrieve the parachute and bury it.”

If looks could kill, Isak would have fallen dead there and then. Even’s eyes narrowed. “Those are my orders, are they?”

“Those are your orders, cadet.” Isak found it hard to look into Even’s blue stare for any length of time without his chest hammering most annoyingly, and turned away with an effort.

“Telemark squad, your second briefing!”

 

***

 

**LOCATION: A BEDROOM SOMEWHERE IN FROGNER, OSLO**

**THREE YEARS EARLIER**

“What on earth?” Jonas turned to look at Isak in shock, a stream of blue smoke slipping from his lips. “You’re joining the _Army_?”

Isak stood in the middle of Jonas’s room, hands pushed into his pockets, feeling oddly shamed. “Yeah. Well, I’ve enrolled for officer training at the Krigsskolen. Now I’m eighteen, I thought –“ and he trailed off. He couldn’t meet his friend’s eye.

Jonas shook his head, oblivious to the coal of the joint burning dangerously close to his knuckle, seemingly rocked to his core. “So you – just went up to the War School? And signed up? Just like that?”

Isak shrugged. “Well yeah, Jonas. It’s not like I have tons of options. I don’t have a home any more, ever since my mum got sectioned – and your family have been great letting me stay and everything – but I’ve missed the rest of my year at Nissen, and I can’t repeat it. And there’s money – my dad’s gone on a bender again – and I really don’t know how else I can manage.”

“Stay here!” Jonas waved his arm around him at Isak’s duvet and satchel piled up on the end of his bed. “My folks love having you. I love having you. Repeat the year at Nissen if you need to, hell, repeat it again if that’s what it takes. What’s the issue, Issy?”

Isak swallowed. The one thing he couldn’t tell Jonas was the _real_ issue.

He couldn’t tell his best friend how sharing his room was both an annoyance and a sweet torture, having to act natural while Jonas strolled around in nothing but his boxers half the time, or the way he slept naked when it was hot, blithely unconcerned to Isak’s hidden agony under the sweltering sheets.

He couldn’t tell him how hard it was to lie next to him on Jonas’s pillows, both of them stoned and giggling, while Jonas got touchy-feely as he always did when he was high and Isak would have to jerk off surreptitiously after his friend had fallen asleep.

He couldn’t tell him how it made him feel sick to sit playing  _Call Of Duty Zombie_ on his phone in the bath while Eva visited and have to see the used condom in the bin afterwards, or go to bed that night with the smell of her still lingering on Jonas’s pillows.

He had to get away from all of this, he just _had_ to.

Jonas looked at him sympathetically, a look Isak always hated. He hated pity.

“But Isak – do you _want_ to be a soldier?”

Isak shrugged. “Why not? It’s a job. Someone has to.”

Jonas arched his eyebrows in that supercilious way he had. “Real soldiers have to kill people, Issy.”

“Oh for God’s sake.” Isak flinched away from Jonas’s look. “Most of the stuff the Army does is digging wells or peacekeeping or stuff, so don’t get all high and mighty on me. You’ll be doing your military service soon, just like the rest of us. I’m just signing up a year early, that’s all.”

“I won’t be doing military service. I’ve got an exemption.” Jonas folds his arms. “You don’t have to serve in the army if you refuse on conscientious grounds. I’ll do my service helping old people or kids or refugees or something.”

Isak rolled his eyes. “Oh, well yay for you. You can afford principles. The rest of us can’t.”

 _You’ve got a home, a family and a girlfriend_ his inner voice screamed frantically. _What do I have? A mother in Gaustad Hospital, a drunk for a dad and a giant crush on my straight best friend._

“I can certainly afford principles if it means not killing people,” said Jonas, his eyes suddenly black with hurt. “Do you know how many civilians the Norwegian Army has killed in Iraq alone? Fifty-two. That’s not terrorists, that’s ordinary people we’ve shot in the face in the dark because they haven’t stopped at checkpoints in time, or kids we knocked over by accident, or civilians we arrested and they wound up dead. Over half of them were children, Issy, don’t you ever read WikiLeaks?”

“Come on Jonas, I know you’re anti-war, but to think we can have a world without an Army is just unrealistic. Nobody likes collateral damage, but there’s some real bad guys out there, and we can all throw away our nukes and dance around in flower chains all we want but it won’t make any difference. We need a protection and a peacekeeping force, and that’s why I’m joining up.”

Jonas stared at him, and for the first time Isak saw his friend look really sad. Part of him exulted in a sick fashion for making Jonas _feel_ something for a change, which was abruptly dashed when Jonas spoke in a low voice.

“You call dead children collateral damage, Issy? I'm glad you can justify it to yourself.”

Isak left Jonas’s house that same afternoon with his few belongings packed in a case.

“I’ll text you when I get there,” he said gruffly as he left.

“Yeah, I’ll message you tonight,” said Jonas offhandedly.

They didn’t.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next 7 chapters will follow over the course of today (7 Aug!!) so do subscribe for updates! I live for kudos and comments bc I'm that hoe, do let me know what you think (or what you think's gonna happen ...)
> 
> Happy Reverse Big Bang week!!!


	2. Breaking The Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even's impulsive decision nearly leads the squad into danger, and Isak feels guilty about the boy he's left waiting for him back at base ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop - here's the second chapter! It's gonna be a LONG day. Remember, don't go walking on thin ice, kids. Contains a pre-taste of smut too, enjoy!

**LOCATION: RONDANE MOUNTAINS, NORWAY.**

**TIME: MANDAG 17 MARS @ 1100**

 

[ ](https://ibb.co/hOVq3z)

The sun shone down hot on the faces of Telemark squad and reflected off the dazzling snow that would turn to subzero temperatures after nightfall. Above them rose the majestic peak of Storrenden, its ice-lined flutings and cornices sparkling blue-white in the early light, though none of them apart from Even paid it much attention. They harnessed the two sledded _pulks_ that bore their food supplies, camping and radio equipment, strapped on their skis and started to pole their way across the lower slopes, well above the tree-line that carpeted the Rondane. Isak brought up the rear, squinting across the large shoulders of the mountain, looking for a sign of their competitors.

Somewhere out there the teams of Narvik and Stavanger were also hauling their way through the snow. They’d all been dropped at equally-spaced landing sites but the finish line at Gravskardhøgda was the same for all of them; twenty-nine kilometres away over thick-packed snow, hauling heavy equipment. It was a mission taxing in both mind and body.

The team strung out across the white snow in a long line. First walked Yousef Acar their orienteering expert, tasked with map and compass reading to navigate them through the snowy wilderness. Following him and dragging the second _pulk_ containing their signals apparatus was their sapper Noora Saetre (radio specialist) and Chris Berg their sparky (electrician). Isak walked with Magnus Fossbakken, their team construction expert, helping him pull their building equipment.

Isak liked Magnus, he was a bit of a crazy squaddie at heart, but he had a real aptitude for making things and would be primarily responsible for the radio tower they were going to build. He also liked a drink, so it wasn’t a complete surprise when Magnus brought out a hipflask, winked at Isak and downed a large gulp.

“Go slow on that, Magnus,” warned Isak as lightly as he could.

Last of all, Even stalked behind them, hauling the _pulk_ containing food and poling equipment. As a latecomer to the team he was the only member who didn’t have a specified job, so the task of the donkey work of pulling along their supplies had fallen to him. Every time Isak glanced over his shoulder he saw the vicious glare in Even’s eyes, and after a while he stopped turning around.

“Okay,” said Yousef, their navigator, drawing to a stop in front of a break in the line of trees. “Captain, in front of us is Lake Sorrenden. This is the main obstacle that we discussed, remember, we’re going to hack around it before rejoining the main route to Gravskardhøgda.”

“Why are we going around it?” objected Even, appearing beside them. “Why don’t we go over it?”

Isak stared at him. “It’s thaw season, Naesheim, are you crazy?”

Even shrugged. “Look how clear it is though; that’s ten centimetres of safe blue ice and it’s almost minus 10C. As long as we keep going and don’t concentrate our weight in the same place, we should be golden.”

Isak shook his head. “It’s too dangerous, Naesheim – we’d only gain an hour at the most, and Acar and I have already planned our route.”

“An hour could make all the difference!” argued Even. “Do we want to win or crawl in at second place? Are we men or mice?”

“Well I’m definitely a mouse, using that logic,” quipped Chris Berg, but nobody laughed. The atmosphere had grown tense as the squad stared at their leader and Isak stared at Even. Even’s eyes were blazing in excitement, his face seemed transformed with a sudden fierce resolution, and Isak couldn’t tear his eyes away.

He swallowed. Part of him wanted to pursue Even’s death-or-glory option, _badly_ wanted it, to take a chance and succeed, because an hour could make all the difference between winning and losing.

But still the cautious part of him murmured, _no no, stick to the plan, it’s not worth the risk._

“Come on,” urged Even, his face alight, and Isak felt himself weakening slightly. He wished Even wasn’t _quite_ so persuasive, it made his stomach warm and fluttery and instantly, out of self-defence, he folded his arms out of irritation.

 _Who’s leading this team,_ he asked himself. _Me or you, Naesheim?_

“Maybe Even could go on and test the ice, if you like, sir?” suggested Noora, noticing Isak’s surly hesitation. “We’re due a break, we could make tea in the meantime.”

Isak heaved a sigh, grateful for the suggestion; Saetre was definitely his own MVP and he resolved to use her more.

“Fine, then try it, Naesheim, but you tie a safety line to you, and the slightest crack from that ice and you come back straight away, alright?”

 

***

 

**LOCATION: OSLO KRIGSSKOLEN (WAR ACADEMY)**

**FREDAG 14 MARS @ 2330**

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” said Simen, sliding closer to Isak at the officer’s bar. “To think we’re going to graduate soon and be real officers. Provided, of course, that we get through the field mission tomorrow.”

Isak looked around the bar – it wasn’t really a bar, more an extended coffee-shop with a licence to sell alcohol to the third-year Krigsskolen graduates – but it was where the main hub of social life happened after training.

It was their last night in base before flying up to the Winter War School for the field mission, and everyone was out to party – some of their fellow cadets like his best friend Sana, her boyfriend Yousef and their friend Mutta – were sitting chatting over Cokes; others like Christoffer Schistad and Elias Bakkoush had already too much to drink and were taking to the dance floor in bad freestyling to Kjarten Lauritsen.

Through the crowd Isak caught sight of a familiar slope of slender shoulders and floppy, Forties-style fair hair and gritted his teeth.

Fucking Naesheim again, probably with Sonja Dravel his girlfriend, coming to make out in the middle of the dance floor as per usual. He huffed and turned his eyes away and Simen caught his glance anxiously.

“Isak? Are you okay?”

Isak wasn’t okay. He was too busy worrying about tomorrow. The last minute addition to his carefully-planned team had thrown him all into whack.

He had enjoyed Krigsskolen, and he would miss it. After the initial nerves he had settled in to the officer training programme like a duck in water. For the first time in his life he felt _part_ of something – a system bigger than him, in which he had an important role, a purpose, and he loved the camaraderie of being thrown together with others and being part of a team.

To many people including Isak, the Army is like a huge family, support system and job all at once. In some respects it is very like school, and in a way better – Norwegian women serve alongside men in the armed forces, and there is a strong anti-discrimination policy for queer officers, run by Diversity Officer Lieutenant Tryggvason. To Isak’s surprise – he’d been a bit of an introvert in school and Jonas had been his only friend – he got on with the other officer cadets very well – with the exception of one.

The training they went through was very much basic training at first – cross-country runs, how to handle and clean rifles, assemble and disassemble basic military equipment – but it was at the strategic planning, logistical exercises, and problem solving that Isak had really excelled. He had been looking forward to the field mission for months, and when he had been made squad captain of Telemark he had felt – for the first time – _proud_ of himself.

And to have that all thrown away – or put in danger – because of a last minute change of personnel – a wild card, a loose cannon which he was supposed to _control_ –

 “Isak?” Simen was still watching him. “Do you want another drink?”

His fingers brushed Isak’s in gentle query and Isak pulled his hand away, feeling both irritated and clumsily ashamed. He liked Simen well enough – but he was way too needy for Isak’s taste.

He shot another look over to the dancefloor and sure enough, there was fucking Naesheim, grinding against his girlfriend in the middle of the crowd, true to form. They were probably the hottest couple in the year apart from maybe Sana and Yousef – and they liked showing off; Isak stared grimly at Even sliding his hand up underneath Sonja’s bra top, and Sonja’s proprietorial hand snaking around Even’s hips to squeeze his ass.

Even’s eyes flicked up to see Isak watching him, and Isak quickly cut his gaze away. This happened much too frequently for his liking – Even would catch Isak staring and Isak would feel stupid and foolish and guilty. But it was impossible not to stare – they just had that _thing,_ the photogenic quality that made them look like models and the self-satisfied, smug Instagram-ready look that said, _we’re life’s winners, we’ve got it all laid out for us, look at us with our beautiful hair and perfect teeth and our privileged place in the world –_

Whereas Isak had never had it easy. Not for one moment. He’d fought for his place at Krigsskolen, earned his respect from his fellow cadets, with unreliable parents and a socio-economic background that would put the lowliest cadet at the Academy to shame.

Not like Even Bech Naesheim, the son of General Bech Naesheim, a decorated commander and alumn of the Kriegsskolen, with doors all open for him and a fast-track to leadership `whether he was any good or not –

Even didn’t even have to _win_ tomorrow at the field mission, not like _Isak_ did, so why was he so bothered about it?

 _Okay, enough of that._ Isak sat up and drained his beer, pulled Simen towards him and placed a sloppy, rather ill-timed kiss on the other boy’s lips. Their teeth clinked together and Simen giggled. “What’s got into you? You were so grumpy before.”

Over his shoulder Isak could see Even watching them, still practically dry-humping Sonja in the middle of the dance floor, his gaze fixed on him with an inscrutability that Isak couldn’t fathom. Obviously Even was still pissed about losing his team and being demoted to Isak’s, but for the first time Isak didn’t feel too bad about _that_.

Even’s words in Dahl’s office – _don’t make me call him sir –_ came back to him and suddenly he couldn’t restrain a smile.

 _You’re gonna have to call me sir,_ he thought wickedly to himself, _and you’re gonna hate every moment of it._

“Do you want to – go somewhere?” asked Simen, and Isak didn’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

 

***

 

Simen’s back hit the shower wall of the deserted locker-rooms as Isak pressed against him, tilting his lips up for kisses, but Isak had other things on his mind.

“Come here,” he whispered, pulling clumsily at Simen’s shirt. “Get your clothes off.”

Simen was a cadet in his year, and the first boy Isak had _done stuff_ with – real stuff that didn’t involve watching from a distance or masturbating to his own pent-up thoughts. Simen was cute and sweet – short brown hair in an elfin cut, a pale, square face with dark-brown eyes and a thoughtful expression. He loved going down on Isak which he did with some regularity, but he also liked hand-holding and kissing which Isak couldn’t get used to; there felt something _wrong_ about it somehow. He felt guilty showing public displays of affection, despite some of the girl cadets’ excited squeaking when they saw them together, because, well, despite doing stuff with Simen, Isak didn’t feel he wanted anything more than _stuff_. 

But right now, here they were.

He turned on the shower and pressed his hands on the wall, tilting his head back so the spray coursed down his chest. Simen abandoned his attempt to kiss Isak on the lips and turned his attention to his neck and collarbones instead, leaving a trail of kisses down his chest and stomach as he sank to his knees.

Isak enjoyed it when Simen blew him, it made his head spin and his dick hard; it got him excited and it made him come, but straight afterwards he would feel overwhelmed and guilty. It wasn’t the same as being back in the closet, exactly, but something felt not quite right about it; when they weren’t having sex he found Simen rather tedious company and then he felt bad for stringing him along.

But when his dick was in Simen’s mouth all those objections seemed to float away, which was probably what kept him coming back for more although every decent part of him scolded himself for it.

Simen dropped his jaw and started to take him in deeper, and Isak groaned as he felt himself hit the back of his throat. The younger cadet was _good_ at this, fingers squeezing up and down and a good firm suck, circling his tongue and lips around Isak’s cock in sweet tight wetness until he felt his eyes begin to cross.

“Fuck, that’s good, kid,” he muttered hoarsely, clutching at Simen’s bobbing head. “I’m gonna – I’m gonna –”

As he started to come, a flicker at the locker-room doorway caught his eye and he jumped; in the dark of the hall he could see the silhouette of a figure, a tall figure with an unmistakeable slope to its shoulders and a quiff of fair hair –

“Who’s that?” he shouted furiously and Simen froze. “Get the fuck out now!”

There was a brief, startled pause and then the figure wheeled around and hurried off. Isak couldn’t see properly in the gloom, but it looked like – looked rather too much like –

His balls started to tighten and he came in Simen’s mouth, biting his lip to stop crying out from the sweet sharp pulses that made his knees buckle and his back arch. Simen coughed and swallowed, and Isak watched, breathing heavily as the smaller cadet wiped his mouth and sucked his fingers. He looked up at Isak with the same tentative look that always made Isak want to run for the hills.

“Who was that?” he asked, and Isak shrugged, starting to pull on his clothes. After all, he didn’t _really_ know.

“No idea. Doubt they saw much, though.”

“Do you want to come back to my bunk tonight?” Simen asked shyly.

Isak heaved a sigh. “I don’t think so, kid. It’s been fun and all, but we’ve an early start tomorrow, and I need to get my beauty sleep.”

Simen looked disappointed and Isak kicked himself. He didn’t mean to be a prick but there was no way this would ever work. The other cadet would be working in radio transmissions in the control team, so they wouldn’t even see each other throughout the field mission until the graduation ceremony. It was probably best to let it go now, because once they graduated, they would both be assigned to different parts of the Army, maybe even different parts of the world, in the huge war machine that could see them sent as far afield as Africa, Malaysia or Iraq.

“Okay,” said Simen, his brown eyes sad and shuttered. “I guess … I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah.” Isak leaned forward and gave Simen an awkward, goodbye peck on the lips. “I’ll see you around.”

 

***

 

**LOCATION: RONDANE MOUNTAINS**

**MANDAG 13 MARS @ 1200**

“Any trouble with that ice, Naesheim, and you get back here as soon as possible, you understand?” barked out Isak with a confidence he was not feeling inside.

Even nodded shortly, tied the safety rope around his middle, and gave one end of it to Yousef before he skied easily down the small ridge. When he reached the shores of the lake, he flattened out and started the cross-country poling actions, half-walking, half-sliding, to propel him across the frozen surface.

Yousef held the safety line, paying it out behind him while Magnus boiled the jerrycan and handed round tea in the meantime. Mugs steaming, they squatted on an outcrop to watch Even’s distant form working across the icy lake.

“He’s doing well,” said Magnus, impressed. “He’s almost half-way already.”

Isak shrugged. Crossing a frozen lake that they had already arranged to go around seemed both ridiculous and yet exciting to him. Part of him was rolling his eyes at Even’s bravado, but the other half was strangely thrilled at the cadet’s daredevil spirit. “Well, let’s see how he does.”

“Shit.” Noora was on her feet, mug falling into the snow. She pointed, gloved hand trembling. “What – what’s that?”

A thin line was snaking across the ice behind the cadet – a black crack that splintered ominously through the greenish surface where his _pulk_ had passed. Even seemed oblivious to what was happening behind him, the roar of the wind whistling over the plains was doubtless obscuring any noise of the evil _crack-crack-crack_ sound prickling behind him.

“Should I pull him back on the line?” Yousef stared anxiously at Isak. “Then even if he goes through the ice, we can still pull him out.”

“He’s too far,” said Isak, his heart in his mouth. “He’s passed the half-way point.”

“Naesheim!” The whole squad broke into screaming, leaping up and down and clapping their hands to warn him. “Naesheim! Run!”

Even glanced back briefly over his shoulder and waved his hand grandly; doubtless thinking they were cheering him on. Yousef sent the warning signal down the rope as Telemark’s screaming increased in volume, and this time Even caught the note of panic in their voices and looked behind him; the next moment he had picked up speed and was skiing frantically for the other side.

“He’s seen it now,” gasped Chris. “The only way is over.”

“Go, Naesheim!” The team broke and sprinted wildly along the shoreline, screaming hysterically. “Run!”

Even was skiing so fast that they had difficulty picking him out of the whirl of snow from the surface of the lake. After a few agonizing minutes there was a crack and a splash, and Isak strained his eyes to see.

“What’s happened? Has he gone in?”

Yousef was adjusting the binoculars. “No, he’s over – at least he’s standing up – but I think the _pulk_ ’s gone in the water so some of the supplies might have had it. Ah no – he’s dragging it out – okay, he’s got it out, but I hope everyone likes wet rice.”

The sense of relief was palpable. Isak suddenly found himself shaking with adrenalin and fury. He had been _responsible_ for Naesheim – allowed him to go off on a foolhardy mission – and if Even had been hurt, or worse – it would have been on his watch.

He should _never_ have agreed to it – but he knew that when Even was staring at him, with that level of conviction in _those_ eyes – Isak had been putty in his hands.

“Well, he might be over, but there’s no way the rest of us can follow him,” said Isak bitterly. “And imagine if we’d all been out there like he wanted – we’d have gone straight into that lake.”

“Guess we’d better get going then.” Acar picked up his _pulk_ rope and began to ski. “We’ll join him the other side – the way we _should_ have been going, sir.”

Isak followed them, glowering with anger and embarrassment. He felt stupid – he felt weak, he felt as if he’d been manipulated into something that could quite easily have ended terribly – and as captain it would have been all his fault.

He hated Even Bech Naesheim _so_ much.

 

***

 

**LOCATION: SCHOOL FOR EXTREME WINTER WARFARE, TERNINGMOEN BARRACKS, EASTERN NORWAY**

**L** **ØRDAG 15 MARS @ 1300**

“Why do you hate Even so much?” asked Sana casually and Isak flinched.

“I don’t _hate_ him,” he lied. “Why would I hate him? He’s on my team now, he’s going to be an asset. ‘Cos we’re going to crush you Narvik guys into the ground this week on the field mission, Bakkoush.”

Sana smirked and picked up the stock of her rifle in her gloved hand. “Whatever you say, Valtersen. I hope you’re ready to eat your words and wash them down with a big drink of lil’ bitch tears when Narvik bring it home.”

The two captains were standing at the edge of the firing range in the Winter War School – a centre for training for extreme conditions in warfare. Their field mission would start here, at Terningmoen Army camp, an hour’s flight from the Rondane Nasjonalpark. They had arrived after a short journey from Oslo by helicopter, dumped their stuff in the barracks and been shown straight to manoeuvres.

The Saturday and Sunday before the field mission were to be dedicated to the practical – munitions, firing and weapon assembly, in cold-weather conditions. It is much harder to complete tasks in subzero temperatures and seemingly inconsequential actions, like touching the metal parts of your weapon without gloves on, can easily lead to injury. Stavanger had gone first on the firing round, followed by Narvik, and last of all, Telemark.

“Here we go.” Sana punched him matily. “Your guy’s up.”

Even stepped up to the block with his rifle and Isak narrowed his eyes, part of him urging him on for the good of his team, but the snakey part of him willing Even to miss. He hated the way Even could look so cool yet so charismatic as he levelled his rifle casually, as if he really just didn’t give a shit, not like _Isak_ did, the way that he _needed_ this, absolutely needed this to work out.

 _Hit,_ he breathed to himself. _Miss … Hit … Miss_ …

But Even simply fired three true shots for a full three-mark, and stepped down with a smirk. He was one of the best marksmen in the year, and he knew it. His eyes met Isak’s and Isak bit his lip.

“Going to show him who’s boss?” Sana prodded her boot at his backside. “Get it, Isak.”

Isak threw a dead-eye stare at her – he knew what she was doing, trying to throw him off – took the rifle that Even held out to him with a grunt of thanks, cleaned it and reloaded it in double-quick time. He’d read that athletes visualise the coming competition in sports psychology, anticipating every move and step on the way to the event. He had done this for night upon night in his bunk, and now he breathed deeply as he made his way to the block.

He aimed at the three targets in quick succession, willing himself into the cool clear mindset that Even occupied so effortlessly. He hit two but in the third he saw a glint of fair hair in his peripheral vision and missed the last one. Not the worst outcome – but definitely not the one he’d wanted, and he turned his head aside as he took his place, unwilling to see Even’s smirk.

“Eat it, bitch. Narvik are bringing this home,” Sana greeted him as he returned.

“Fuck off,” said Isak inelegantly, inwardly fuming. What the fuck had he been doing gawping at Even during rifle manoeuvres? _Get your shit together, Isak, don’t let him get inside your head._

“Even’s all right, you know, when you get to know him,” said Sana, seamlessly resuming their discussion of a few minutes ago.

“I don’t want to get to know him,” spat back Isak. “Get to know some army brat born with a silver spoon in his mouth? He’s never had a day’s problems in his life.”

Sana eyed him thoughtfully. “You might not think that if you get to know him. He’s under a lot of pressure, you know. Living up to his father’s reputation.”

“Well boo hoo hoo,” Isak shoved his hands into the pockets of his insulated snow-trousers. “Let me go cry over some fragile privileged cishet asshole afraid of his top-brass general daddy.”

Sana shot him a baleful look as the last of her team completed the long-range shooting exercise. “Something tells me he’s not the only asshole around here.”

“What?” snapped Isak, but Sana merely pursed her lips and gazed at Even as he stepped up for the second round.

But at that distance Isak could see something was wrong. The tall cadet glanced at the waiting soldiers uncertainly, and lowered his rifle momentarily as if it was too heavy to lift, before raising it and then lowering it again.

Isak stared around, looking up and down to see if anything was distracting Even, but he couldn’t see anything but Sonja who was standing in Even’s line of vision, her arms folded, watching him.

Even seemed flustered. He rubbed the back of his arm across his forehead, swallowed, raised his rifle, dropped it again.

“Are you all right, cadet?” called out Captain Tryggvason from where he was evaluating the scores.

“Yes sir,” answered Even dully, raised his weapon with sudden purpose but shot wide, three times in quick succession. The ammo glanced off the target-stand and rang into the snow. Empty scores.

Telemark team let out a muffled groan and Isak bit his lip. Even was one of their best marksmen, and if his aim was off then what hope was there for the rest of them?

Even didn’t look at him when he handed him the rifle, despite Isak’s questioning look. Behind him Sana chortled.

“Fall flat, Issy. You might as well give this one up to Narvik, save yourself the trouble.”

Isak gave her a glare and mounted the range stand, his eyes narrowed. He didn’t think about Even for a single moment. Much to his surprise – and satisfaction – he got three full shots, and a ripple of whooping and clapping from Telemark as he equalised the score that Even would otherwise have made. On the order to fall-out he glanced at the leader board as he flipped Sana the bird and jogged off to the mess-hall.

  1. NARVIK
  2. TELEMARK
  3. STAVANGER



They were going to _win_ this thing, he resolved to himself, with or without that Army brat _Even Bech Naesheim_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do let me know what you think - I eat kudos and comments to survive. 6 more chapters to go, ALL to be posted today!! Argh!


	3. "Whatever You Say, Captain,"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak tries to make peace with Even - but when they're forced to share a dug-out at close quarters the temperature starts to heat up ...
> 
> (a little pre-taste of smut for you guys, lol)

[ ](https://ibb.co/mdMoOz)

**LOCATION: RONDANE MOUNTAINS**

**MANDAG 17 MARS @ 1800**

It was still light when Isak gave the order to stop. The team were exhausted – a full day of poling through snow dragging heavy _pulks_ had made even the stolid Fossbakken look tired out – though Even, of course, objected.

“We’ve still got a couple of hours of daylight left!” he snapped, heedless of Isak’s attempt to quieten the situation. “We could make it over central Rondane easily before we pitch up for the night!”

Isak shook his head. “It’s better to stop here and build our shelters for the night; if there’s any daylight left we can spend that pre-assembling the radio equipment. We’ll leave before light tomorrow to make up the time when we’re all fresh.”

Yousef nodded. “Isak’s right. No point in exhausting ourselves.”

“Chris and I can assemble everything we need for the radio station this way,” backed up Noora. “We’ll also be able to eat properly if we get the fire started now.”

Even scowled and grumbled but he was overruled. As they debated, a large gust of wind carrying splintering particles of iced snow suddenly whirled down on them. The weather was setting in for the night and Isak couldn’t restrain a smirk.

“Imagine if we were still out walking in this,” he said off-handedly. “We’d be stranded in the most exposed part of the Rondane, with barely any shelter.”

As it was, they were still under the tree-line on the lower slopes, better protected than they would be in the wilderness beyond. Any team that had made it further than they had would be facing an uncomfortable night amid the rocks and snags of the Rondane. Isak couldn’t help but feel _slightly_ smug that he had called it so accurately.

The squad set to building quinzees – rough dug-outs in the snow, otherwise known as “snow graves.” Quinzees aren’t like igloos, where blocks of snow are shaped and stacked, they’re more of a quick-fix, an underground scrape beneath a pile of snow to keep people warm. Often the ventilation holes can become blocked by melting or slipping snow, so a candle is burned inside. Any build-up of carbon dioxide which can prove fatal to sleepers is easily spotted by a blue, guttering or extinguished flame. It’s common practice for two people to share a quinzee, taking turns throughout the night to be on “candle-watch.”

Noora and Chris, predictably, finished their quinzee first and sat by the fire assembling their radio circuits; this would save them valuable time when they came to construct their transmission station. Fossbakken and Acar got a jerrycan with sweet tea boiling on it on their small propane stove, and before Isak realised what was happening, they had almost finished another shelter together.

Isak swallowed, looking up from his half-finished quinzee. He had thought that he and Acar would share a bunk – after all, Acar was pretty much his second-in-command being the navigator – and for a moment he considered stepping in and asking Acar to change, but an idea suddenly occurred to him.

He looked around and saw that Even was off, standing apart from the rest of them, up on the skyline above the camp gazing at the setting sun.

“Good call,” said Yousef, pouring out tin mugs of tea. “We can eat early tonight. Who’s for dried reconstituted fish stew?”

There was a universal groan. Army food at base was some of the best in the world – after all if you can’t keep troops happy, then the first principle of loyalty is lost – but on treks and field missions they still had to rely on the dried flakes of food which could be mixed with boiled water to make something that was almost, but not quite, entirely unlike the food that it was supposed to be.

“That stew tastes like pussy,” chortled Magnus and Noora threw handfuls of snow at him. “Shut your mouth, Fossbakken.”

“What?” Chris Berg grinned at her. “He’s not wrong. Yours tastes better, though.”

“Shut up!” gasped Noora, pushing her hands into her pockets and blushing uncontrollably while Chris and Magnus laughed obscenely.  

 “Ugh,” Isak grasped his mug of steaming tea in both gloved hands, trying to divert the subject from the usual crude Army banter. “Naesheim’s still in a shitty mood about today. If he keeps going like this, he’s going to derail our whole team.”

Noora and Chris exchanged looks.

“I think you should talk to him,” said Noora carefully. “If we’re to get him onside, we can’t have him thinking that we all hate him.”

“Even though we do,” muttered Isak under his breath.

“I don’t!” said Chris indignantly. “He’s a babe! I’m surprised you haven’t noticed that, Isak.”

“Captain,” Isak corrected her, and she winked obscenely. “Whatever you say, _captain_.”

“He can be very kind,” said Noora. “He helped carry our _pulk_ over the rocks at the frozen waterfall, and he lent me his hat when mine got wet.”

Isak looked over at Even’s hunched form, now squatting on an outcrop, seemingly distracted by the view which, to be fair was glorious – the distant snowy peak of Gravskardhøgda underneath the red setting sun, spilling its radiance over the white-sheeted slopes until everything was tinged with pink.

_Naesheim’s a brilliant cadet, but he’s also unpredictable and he’ll need good leadership. This is your test, Valtersen. Can you rise to the challenge of captain?_

“Okay, okay,” Isak puffed out his cheeks. “I’ll go talk to him.”

Taking a deep breath and carrying two tin mugs of tea, Isak made his way over to where Even was standing, looking up at the skyline. He had a pencil and a pad on him – Isak had often seen him with it on the trek and assumed he was taking notes – but when he drew nearer, he could see that it was a drawing; a fine tracery of lines depicting the mountain range on which they now stood. As he sensed Isak behind him, Even flushed and shoved the pad back into his rucksack.

“Naesheim, what’s up?” asked Isak as carefully as he could, summoning his own internal Tryggvason. “I know you didn’t want to be on our team, man, but now you’re here, we need to work together. That’s the whole point of this exercise, isn’t it?”

Even shrugged and kept going through his pack, found a pack of cigarettes and pulled one out with his teeth. There was a pause before he grudgingly offered one to Isak.

Isak debated – he didn’t smoke, but something about the gesture told him that it was a peace offering. He took one using his teeth also - ungloved fingers could get frostbitten very easily - and lit it using the Zippo lighter that Even held out to him. Resisting the urge to splutter and cough as the rank fumes tore into his lungs – why, if Even was so wealthy, did he smoke the lowest-quality cigarettes in Norway – and held out the second mug of tea to him. After a brief second, Even accepted it silently, and Isak breathed out. Maybe they could come to an understanding, _somehow_ , despite everything. 

“Look, I know you had a rough deal when Bergen got split up. And if you wanted to get put on any team, it would probably be Stavanger, with Sonja, wouldn’t it?” Isak started, using all his basic psychology to understand where Even was coming from.

Even shook his head and exhaled a long plume of white smoke into the darkening air. “We broke up.”

Isak blinked in surprise. “You and Sonja?”

The other cadet nodded. “Yeah.”

Ah, so that was it. A lot of things made sense now, not least Even’s erratic and brooding behaviour since the beginning of the mission. He felt a wave of sympathy towards his soldier.

“Listen, Naesheim, I’m really sorry to hear that, I totally get why you would be messed up over it. I mean, it sucks that we’re in the middle of the field mission when you’re so sad, but –”

Even cut in, staring over Isak’s head at the mountains beyond him. “I’m not sad.”

Isak stared at him. “You’re not?”

Even shrugged. “I dumped her,” he said finally, as if that was the final explanation, and took a long draught of hot tea.

“Okay.” Isak weighed this up, and decided to avoid the subject altogether. “But anyway, we need to win, right? Win over her team, win over Sana’s team. You have the fighting spirit, Naesheim, I know you have. I’ve seen it – every exercise at Krigsskolen you’ve been gunning to win. I just feel that – since we arrived at the Winter War School something’s just – something’s not – right.”

Even stares into his tea.

“I feel that something has changed in you. The cadet I know would want to win, even if he was on a team he didn’t want to be. And that worries me. You seem – different, somehow.”

The other cadet sighs. There’s a long pause, before he speaks gruffly, with an effort. “Maybe something has.”

“What’s changed? Graduation?” It all didn’t make much sense to Isak. “You don’t even –” and he bit back what he had been going to say with an effort.

Even looked up at him, his face flushed in the glow of the dying sunset. “I don’t even – what?”

Isak looked at him for a long moment. Gone was the usual expression that Even usually wore at the Krigsskolen – laughing, carefree, slightly arrogant. Also gone was the set mask of sullen insolence that he’d worn since they arrived at the Winter War School. Now he looked younger, slightly insecure and vulnerable. His eyes looked very large and blue as he repeated his question. “Don’t what, Isak?”

“Nothing,” Isak said rather lamely. “I just wanted to let you know, Telemark are really glad to have you with us.” That part was a lie, at least from his perspective, but he knew that Even _needed_ something right now, needed some support and camaraderie to get him out of the black hole where he was languishing. “You’re the person that I’d have picked out of all of Bergen team, you know that.”

Even’s face went through a sudden transformation and he smiled – a sudden rush of happiness that looked like the sun breaking out from the clouds. Isak hated how he noticed the small sharp canine at the corner of Even’s mouth and the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners. He felt guilty but he knew he’d done his work, when Even nodded and looked him straight in the eye.

“Okay, sir.”

Isak’s knees suddenly went weak and his face flamed, but not from the sunset.

“Good,” he managed to say gruffly, and without further ado turned and made his way down to the darkening camp, the glow of the fire and the smell of the cooking pots without bothering to check that Even was following him.

As he reached level ground Fossbakken accosted him cheerfully waving a steaming ladle.

“Dinner’s ready, captain! Who’s for a bit of dried pussy stew?”

 

***

 

**LOCATION: SCHOOL OF WINTER WARFARE, TERNINGMOEN BARRACKS**

**S** **ØNDAG 16 MARS @ 1630**

Christoffer Schistad pulled the tank to a standstill, took off his helmet, rolled his head back and stretched his arms. He looked handsome in his fatigues, and Isak gazed at him a second longer than he should have, before he felt Even stir beside him and his eyes flick sharply between him and Chris. He glanced hurriedly away.

Telemark had just completed the tank logistical course – driving the tank with tracked wheels through the obstacle course for the last few hours while the team did moving target practice. Schistad was the last but in many ways most crucial member of Telemark; as their designated driver and pilot for the team his field of specialist operations were mainly mechanical. He wouldn’t be accompanying them on the ground during their field mission, but instead be responsible for the drop-off and pick-up from the mountainside.

“Well done, Schistad,” said Isak, jumping down from the rear of the tank, machine gun in hand. “That’s put us in a strong position for sure.”

His team piled off after him, and slapped hands and cheered. The task had gone well – Schistad was a good driver and had easily shaved minutes off the closest team’s best time, and the team had had a very high hit-rate with their moving ammo. Although Even’s performance at the static range hadn’t gone brilliantly, he’d sharpened his aim since, and hit every one of his moving shots.

Despite his return to form, however, Even seemed in a brooding mood, and his eyes darkened as Isak clapped Schistad on the back.

Schistad nodded, and gave Isak a wink, a small glimpse of tongue protruding from the corner of his mouth. “You’re welcome, sir,” he said as he languorously saluted, his eyes running up and down Isak’s body. “Always happy to please.”

Isak levelled him with an exasperated stare. He’d once gotten off with Schistad behind the barracks during a drunken night in second year and it was something that he’d really rather forget – though Schistad apparently was in no hurry to let the encounter go.

“Just get us back to base at the end of the field mission,” he said curtly. “That’s all you need to do.”

Schistad grinned, slow and easy, biting his lip gently with his very white teeth. “You got it, captain.”

“At ease, cadet,” Isak said, blushing slightly. “Dismissed, team, and well done!”

Even shot him a bitter glance as he turned away from Schistad – obviously sulking still – but hell, he could suck on it for all Isak cared, their team was easily up to second place, and depending on how well Narvik had shot, they might even be frontrunner. He grinned to himself, sending off Acar and Fossbakken on arms collection; he’d check the new scores on the leaderboard as soon as he got back to –

“Hey, Valtersen!”

Isak turned in surprise to see Sonja Dravell, Even’s girlfriend and captain of Stavanger squad, stalking towards them.

He sent a bewildered glance over his shoulder – surely it was Even she wanted – but Even was suddenly jogging quickly towards the barracks with a determination that indicated he was in no hurry to turn back. Furthermore, Sonja had never so much as addressed two words in Isak’s direction before. It appeared this situation was shortly to be remedied, as Sonja sent Even’s retreating figure a disgusted glance before thrusting her face at Isak.

“Think you’ve got it taped, have you? Think you’re going to win?”

Isak blinked at her in surprise. “What’s that, Dravell?”

“I said, think you’re going to win, are you? Can’t afford to lose, rather? Because you’d better get used to it, Valtersen. You’re going to lose, and lose hard.”

Isak folded his arms, trying not to let any expression show on his face. It was no particular surprise to him in some respects that Sonja was playing mind-games. Cock-jostling was fairly common between squad leaders to try to obtain a psychological advantage before the field mission, and he and Sana had done their share of it to each other at the rifle-range, though in a relatively friendly fashion.

Yet he was slightly taken aback that Sonja had decided to target the captain of her boyfriend’s team. And he’d seen Sonja being totally friendly to Narvik captain Sana when they’d broken for lunch so her threats were only directed to Telemark – it didn’t make sense.

Obviously she and Even were a more competitive couple than he’d made allowances for.

“Nice try, Sonja, but you’re digging a hole for yourself here. Your scores for logistical commanding are way lower than mine. And look at the team we’ve got. Acar’s the best at orienteering and Saetre’s a radio whizz. Not to mention – ” he caught himself at the mention of Even’s name.

“You know what you are?” Sonja’s face was pale with rage and her mouth worked spasmodically. “You’re a little creep, Valtersen, you know that? Tryggvason’s favourite, mincing around, butter wouldn’t melt, fluttering your eyelashes, oh-look-at-me-I’m-a-poor-scholarship-kid. You’re a manipulator, Valtersen, a snake, you know you are, I know you are, the whole year knows you’re a snake, but I’m not going to let you bite me.”

Isak shook his head in sheer bewilderment. “Sonja, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, but I’ll tell you this, you’re making yourself look bad.” He nodded towards where Stavanger team were trailing after their leader, looking awkward and embarrassed. “You need to keep control of yourself, girl, your squad won’t want to be led by someone who’s clearly a psycho.”

For a moment he wondered if he’d gone too far. Sonja looked as if she was going to explode at the word _psycho_ , but instead she leaned forward and hissed in his ear.

“You fuck my life, Valtersen, and I will. Fuck. You. Up. Understand?”

There was a vicious pause, before she wheeled on her heel and set off towards the barracks. “Stavanger Squad! Fall in!”

Isak blew out his cheeks and watched them jog after her in consternation. The encounter had shaken him up, for sure, but her aim had doubtless been to throw him off, and if he let this conversation linger, then she’d have won.

He was also no stranger to people he didn’t know hissing bile at him – during a night out in Oslo he and Simen had had _faggot_ and _dirty homo_ thrown at them when Simen had irritatingly insisted on holding his hand outside the club – but coming from someone as popular as Sonja, it had rattled him, rather more than he wanted to let on.

“What the hell was that all about?” he asked Saetre, feigning nonchalance. “She just ripped me a new one for no reason.”

Noora looked as if she was about to say something, then shrugged. “Don’t let her get in your head, sir.”

“She’s not,” shot back Isak, glancing over to Sonja disappearing into the mess-hall. A movement to the left of the barracks struck him, and he saw Even’s tall figure slip awkwardly off in the opposite direction from where he had undoubtedly been watching the entire thing.

“Control your hoe, bitch,” he whispered, although in truth he didn’t really blame Naesheim for not getting involved.

Anyway, if Even was dating a psycho like that, then he deserved everything he got.

 

***

 

**LOCATION: RONDANE MOUNTAINS**

**MANDAG 17 MARS @ 2130**

“So ... when did you break up with Sonja?” he asked Even, his voice muffled from the thick flaps of the polar sleeping bag, the puzzle as to why Sonja had been so unpleasant to him at the rifle range gradually clicking into place.

There was barely any space in the quinzee for both his and Even’s large frames so they were pressed together, huddled down in the “snow grave” for warmth. It was less awkward than he’d supposed – since his talk with Even, the other cadet had been – if not friendly, at least not so aggressively unpleasant – and had even joined in the bawdy songs round the camp fire that Magnus was so fond of before turning in for the night.

Even shrugged. “Um. When we got to the Winter War School.”

Isak rolled towards him in surprise. “Two days ago? Why?”

Even groaned and pushed his face into his hat. “Ugh. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” Isak wasn’t sure it made any sense – Even had seemed perfectly happy grinding on Sonja in the bar during their last night at the Krigsskolen – so why he’d chosen the next day and the most important graduation exercise of their year as a suitable time to break up with her was anyone’s guess.

But still, what was Sonja so furious with _him_ about?

“Right, forget it, cadet. Tomorrow’s going to be a big day. Night.”

Even glanced up at him, his face strangely young-looking in the candle-light. “Night.”

Isak couldn’t sleep, so he had taken first candle watch. Insomnia was a problem of his – a racing brain coupled with over-examination of the day’s issues. Either a stiff drink or getting himself off were his go-to remedies for falling asleep, and right now, both of those were out of the question.

Or were they?

Even appeared to be deeply asleep within minutes – in the soft candlelight Isak could see his long body curled inside the Arctic sleeping bag and his face huddled on his fur-lined extreme-weather hat that he wore underneath his helmet. Isak could hear the rise and fall of his breathing. It was oddly comforting and his thoughts started to wander.

The image of Simen on his knees in the shower flashed before him and his heartrate kicked up a little.

Why the fuck not – and Even was asleep –

Slowly, so that he didn’t disturb his slumbering roommate, he inched his fingers downwards, sliding them underneath the sleeping bag and over his padded fatigues. From his pocket he took an old, rolled-up tissue, and when he reached his trouser buttons he flicked them open and slid his hand inside until he could cup himself fully. It was a cramped angle, but in desperate times desperate measures, and all that.

Even sighed, stirred, licked his lips and nestled a little further into his hat. Isak froze momentarily, but Even’s eyes remained shut.

Gently he started to ease his fingers up and down his cock, visualising again Simen’s soft mouth opening around him and the little noises he made as he sucked. After a while he started to chub up blissfully, and soon he was fully hard and breathing heavily; he adjusted his angle and brought his erect cock out into the warm pouch of the sleeping bag, tissue at the ready. He let his mind wander as his hand worked firm and fast, in his mind’s eye seeing Simen’s brown eyes staring up at him as his mouth slid up and down, and pretty soon Isak’s stuttered breaths grew louder, small puffs of white in the freezing air.

_Shit, he was probably making so much noise –_

Covertly he rolled his head back and to the right to check if he’d woken Even. But his cadet lay motionless at his side, long lashes brushed over his cheeks, his dark blond hair curling messily over his neck. He needed a haircut – he wore his short-back-and-sides as long as he conceivably could – the rebel in him seeming to resist the same grade-two crop that everyone else, including Isak, sported.

It was the first time that Isak had really gotten to look properly at Even; a proper look, not a quick glance, and he made the most of it. Even looked beautiful and soft in sleep, his lips soft and slightly open – fuck, he really had gorgeous lips. Isak had never really seen them when they weren’t curled in an aggravating smile or set sullenly into a pressed line. Now when they were at such close quarters, Isak couldn’t stop staring at them, at the plump pillow of his lower lip and the small curl at the corners. His gaze swept further to the cleft in his chin, the soft line of his jaw and the sweep of his long, delicate neck - 

Instead of slackening, Isak’s arousal deepened abruptly.

Before he knew it he was working his cock furiously, harder and more needily than he ever had over Jonas or Simen, his eyes drooping and half-closed over the sensuous ache as he chased his orgasm. Even’s face blurred and Isak’s breaths came thick and fast, his gaze trained on the soft, open lips. He closed his eyes and brought his knees up during the few last hard pulls, considering bringing back the image of Simen to finish him off, but as soon as he did, the kneeling cadet’s face changed into Even’s and Isak convulsed; creasing up his face as he spurted hard and needily into the tissue with a strangled cry.

After a moment he opened his eyes, heart thumping hard, struggling to contain his gasps, and saw Even – awake – staring at him from inches away, eyes blue and wide.

He didn’t look sleepy _at all._

Isak gazed furiously back, confusion and arousal washing over him as he frantically struggled to mop up and re-button his trousers in the tight quarters of the sleeping bag.

Had the cadet been awake the _entire time_?

“What the fuck are you looking at, Naesheim?” he hissed angrily.

Even swallowed, looking as thrown as Isak had ever seen him. His hair was mussed up on one side and there was a pink pressure print on his cheek.

“Um, I, sorry –” he whispered. “I didn’t –”

“You saw nothing! Now, I’m going for a piss!” Isak grabbed his polar overcoat and crawled furiously outside.

He paced angrily in the freezing dark, his cheeks burning, for a long, long time until he was sure that Even was asleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whooo ... and Isak's been caught at it! How's it going to be tomorrow? Awkward? Ya think?!?!?
> 
> 5 more chapters to go!!


	4. "Can't We Just Stay Down Here Forever"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After another night full of sexual tension, Isak has to get his squad back on form - but disaster hits -

[ ](https://ibb.co/fENpVe)

 

**LOCATION: RONDANE MOUNTAINS**

**TIRSDAG 18 MARS @ 2045**

On night two of the field mission Isak climbed furiously into the freshly-built quinzee in their new camp, crawling into his polar sleeping bag, pulling the flap over his head.

It had been an absolute _bitch_ of a day, and the only good thing is that it was now over.

He'd feared facing Even in the morning, but for some reason the other cadet had avoided his eyes and practically faded into the background since breakfast. He'd contributed little to the running of the mission, which meant that they'd run up against some stupid mistakes.

Earlier, Acar had unaccountably led them off track that morning almost three kilometres before he’d realised and they’d all had to retrace their steps, meaning that they had slogged all morning on a wild goose chase until they were exhausted for no gain. Isak had torn the orienteer off a strip in front of the entire team – a dick move quite unlike him – until his face was flushed with anger and Yousef was crimson with mortification.

Secondly, Saetre had announced that the radio circuit she’d been working on had frozen over, and that it would have to be started again. This time Isak had managed not to _completely_ lose it, but he’d been totally icy towards her, implying it was her fault for not insulating it properly, until she was so flustered she could barely concentrate enough to remedy the damage.

And as if that wasn’t enough, Fossbakken had had to be reprimanded over drinking repeatedly from his hip flask, until his ruddy face was flushed and he’d been giggling ridiculously over a rude joke that Berg had made. Isak had shamed and ridiculed him nastily, adding in jokes about the cadet’s slightly portly frame, making Fosskbakken’s red face even redder, and his embarrassed team had ha-ha’d along with him awkwardly.

 _Shit, I’m turning into Sonja,_ he thought dejectedly to himself. _Guess winning is catching._

In fact, the only unproblematic person on the team that day had been – quite unbelievably – Even himself.

Isak groaned and wormed around, searching for a comfortable spot. Tomorrow – the final assault on Gravskardhøgda. And the radio exercise. Then the drive back to base with Schistad. He computed the leader board in his head.

  1. Narvik
  2. Telemark
  3. Stavanger



_Focus on that,_ he told himself. _The end’s in sight._

 There was a slight buzz from his phone - what, he was getting reception now? - and he pulled it out of his pocket. Mobiles aren't strictly allowed on training exercises for obvious reasons, but Isak as squad captain was allowed to carry one as part of his comms set, along with their radio with which they sent in their location every night. He frowned, blinking stupidly down at it. It was a text from Simen.

_Hey. Me, sorry. Just checking your okay._

Isak rolled his eyes. Bad grammar always set his teeth on edge. The Rondane was almost completely devoid of signal masts, so they had to be up high enough to get reception. 

_Yeah we're good. You?_

There was a cluster of tiny dots, before the message appeared. _Just missing you._

Isak glanced through the quinzee entrance, but Even was still messing around outside by the fire, cleaning his teeth and listening to Magnus and Yousef chatting quietly outside. In another few minutes he would be crawling in, crusted with spatters of snow and ice and bringing a blast of freezing air into the warm burrow that Isak had made for himself. 

_There's a bit of snow headed for the Rondane, so wrap up warm, okay?_

Isak frowned. _Much snow?_

_Well, it shouldn't come down as far as you guys but keep an eye on your radio, if it gets worse we'll let you know._

Isak typed, quickly, before he could think too much about it. _Send me a pic._

There was a bit of a pause before Simen messaged back, evidently confused. _What, now?_

_Yeah. A good one._

Simen's desperation was palpable in the speed of his response. _Is anybody with you?_

_No, but that situation might change_

A cluster of dots. _Hang on._

There was a long, expectant pause, rudely interrupted by Even's large frame forcing his way through the quinzee-hole feet first, his face grimy despite his brief ablutions. 

"Budge up, Valtersen," he flung over his shoulder. "There's no space in here."

Isak rolled his eyes, but scrunched himself to the side so that Even could wriggle down into his sleeping bag and zip himself up. The quinzee was indeed tiny, and they had to shunt uncomfortably around in close proximity to each other until they made room, Even swearing as his head brought down a shower of snow from the roof and Isak cursing as Even's knee shoved into his side.

"Mind where you're going! You'll bring the whole thing down on us."

"Such a drama queen." Even heaved himself onto his side with a gasp, hunkering down inside his polar sleeping bag. Isak looked around, distracted.

"Where's my phone?"

"What phone? You have a phone?"

"Captains are allowed phones. For emergencies."

Even huffed. "Okay then. I don't know."

"I think you're lying on it."

"What, you're going to make me get up now?"

"If you're lying on my phone, yes."

Their faces were inches away from each other, staring at each other furiously. Even looked at him closely. "You've been in a right pissy mood all day, Valtersen, you know that?"

Isak bridled. "What, because I asked you to help me find my phone?"

"It's not that - it's the way you're talking."

"What? I haven't said anything to you today! If anything -" and Isak broke off, he wasn't about to give Even praise for just being, you know, a normal human being. 

"It's not me. It's the way you've been acting all day, like you can't bear any of us - stamping around with that look on your face, irritated when things go wrong, not giving us our full rest time - is it that time of the month or something?"

"Oh for God's sake!" Isak glared at him, but saw that Even was actually struggling to hold back his laughter. "Fuck off. Okay. Quit winding me up."

"Who says I'm winding you up?" whispered Even, not breaking the stare for an instance. "You're stressed. You need to unwind, Valtersen. Badly."

His hand shot out and tickled Isak briefly under the armpit. Isak jumped and swore. "Fuck! Stop! Oh my God! Stop!"

Even laughed, mercilessly pulling Isak's arm down with one hand and tickling him madly with the other. "You know what's good for stress relief? Laughter. Look how you're laughing right now!"

Isak swatted at him frantically, veering frantically between fury and giggles. "Stop that! Stop!"

"Tickle me back, then," grinned Even maddeningly, and Isak took that as a challenge, heaving himself at Even and plunging his fingers down Even's sides. For a moment the quinzee was a blur of tangled limbs and grunts and scrapping until Even gasped and bucked.

"Argh! That's cheating! You can't unzip my sleeping bag to tickle me, that's not allowed!"

"What, there's rules now?" cackled Isak, drunk on stupidity and laughter, grasping at him forcefully. "There's rules on tickling?"

"Yes of course there are rules! You can't just go off base like that, Valtersen! You're the captain, I'm meant to be the rule-breaker, that's how it goes!"

Even was suddenly on top of him, knee pressed into Isak's chest, and Isak's leg wound around his other one. "Oh, so you're the rebel? And I'm the - what?"

"You're the robot," teased Even. "The machine that just goes on and on. Feed it an order, and off it goes."

There was silence in the quinzee. Isak wished he wasn't quite so close to Even's lips, or that he could smell the cinnamon toothpaste that Even seemed always to use. With an effort he turned away. He hated the fact that Even could have this effect on him; turning him into a giggling wreck at just one silly touch. It just -  it wasn't _professional_.

"OK, that's enough, Naesheim. I just need my phone. Okay?"

"All right, all right." Even eyes dropped away as he pulled off Isak. He heaved and thrashed, untangling one arm and groping wildly about. "Yeah, okay. Here it is."

As he held it out to Isak, his face lit up with a sudden glow as the phone buzzed. Even glanced down at it, casually, and then froze. "Uh, it's for you," he said awkwardly, handing it over. 

Isak's stomach dropped. He didn't have to see the full notification to know; but when he grabbed the phone it was pretty unequivocal; a close-up picture of Simen's ass with the caption, _I've got my fingers inside of me right now._

Even shuffled down into his sleeping bag, pulling his hat over his head, all his silliness abruptly wiped out as if it had never been.

Awkwardly, Isak stabbed at the phone and turned it off. That particular jerk-off would have to wait.

"Guess your boyfriend misses you, huh," said Even at last, his tone neutral.

"He's not my boyfriend," said Isak clumsily. 

Even shrugged coldly. "Whatever." 

***

 

**2105**

Even took first candle-watch, while Isak stared seethingly into the flickering darkness, his dead phone tucked into his trouser pocket. In the end he must have drifted off, because he awoke from a long, sullen dream in which he was following a pair of boots up, up, up a long, snow-covered mountain range, to the feeling of sudden, slight vibrations that made his sleeping bag quiver. His pillow was shaking, and it was these short sharp movements that had woken him up so unexpectedly.

There was also something else, the sound of stifled, quick breaths that cut through the silence, the unmistakeable noise of someone –

Isak could feel Even’s back pressed along his side, trembling in the effort of holding in his cries. Stealthily he raised his head and looked to the side. He could see the dim outline of the other cadet in the candle-light, lying face down next to him, his face pressed deep into the hood, his hips rising and slightly falling under the sleeping bag.

Isak licked his lips. He was too sleepy and confused to feel aroused, though it was evident what he had woken up to; but there was something strangely intimate and hypnotic about watching the slow, gentle movements, Even’s back surging as his hips rolled in ever-increasing excitement, seemingly heedless of his commanding officer beside him.

 _Don’t, don’t_ , Isak’s internal voice whispered to him, but he couldn’t help it, sliding a hand over his trousers to hold himself gently as Even started to rock faster and faster, his breath coming in short, hard pants. Tired though he was, Isak let himself watch, touching himself covertly as he watched the other’s increasing excitement, until he was almost as invested in it as Even.

As his movements approached a crescendo, Even suddenly stopped himself with a jerk and turned towards him. His heart pounding, Isak quickly dropped his head and feigned sleep.

“Isak?”

The voice was low and breathless, Even raised on his elbows, struggling to contain his breathing. “Are you – are you awake?”

Isak kept resolutely facing away from him, eyes staring into the dimness and made no answer, trying to control his own breathing low and steady.

After an agonising pause, he felt Even roll over onto his back, followed by a quick flurry of tugs and Even’s breath hitching in a series of desperate gasps. There was a long deep sigh of bliss that seemed to touch Isak everywhere inside him, making his blood pound along his veins and his cock suddenly achingly hard.

“Captain?” said Even at length in a voice that implied he _knew_ Isak was awake.

Isak bit his lip in embarrassment. “Yes, cadet?”

“Your turn on candle-watch.”

Even took a deep breath and relaxed, his breathing slowing and slackening, followed by a gentle snore as sleep overtook him but Isak stayed awake, staring into the darkness, his cock stiff and aching underneath his trousers.

He didn’t get any more sleep that night.

 

***

 

**LOCATION: SCHOOL FOR EXTREME WINTER WARFARE, TERNINGMOEN BARRACKS**

**SONDAG 16 MARS @ 1930**

“Mamma?” Isak cradled the Winter War School telephone between jaw and shoulder, twisting the old-fashioned wire cord between his fingers. “Mamma, can you hear me?”

His mother laughed; she had a lovely laugh, an engaging child-like sound like bells or water fountains leaping high into the air with joy. Isak sometimes felt he could listen to that laugh forever. It was when she got to talking that the problems came.

“Of course I can hear you, Isak! You’re getting all grown up, your voice is so loud!”

“Listen mamma, you know I’m at the Krigsskolen don’t you?”

There was a puzzled pause, followed by an, “Oh yes! Yes of course!” although he could visualise her frowning in confusion, despite the fact that he had told her during every phone call where he was.

“Well, right now we’re up at the Winter War school in Terningmoen for a field mission, and if I do it, mamma, then I’ll be commissioned into the Army! I wondered – wondered whether you might like to come to my passing-out parade?”

Everyone’s family and friends would come to the passing-out parade – the decorations that graduating cadets are presented with by the King – and Isak couldn’t face being the only person there without _anyone_ to clap for him.

“The Army?” she said startled. “But that means you’ll have a big gun and go round killing people. My baby doesn’t _kill_ people!”

Her voice broke, and he bit his lip angrily. “For God’s sake, mamma, I’m not going to –” before he caught himself. He _was_ going to join the Army, and there was a pretty good possibility that _someone_ , somewhere, would meet death at his hands.

Krigsskolen had been all exercises and logistical problems, but graduates were posted to war zones all around the world, and the moving targets they practiced on in the BV exercise and rifle-range would one day be real, human flesh. He could only hope that if he did kill someone it would be in fair combat and not, as Jonas had warned him, an innocent civilian or someone wrongly apprehended, or a child.

“You’ll be a murderer! My son can’t be a murderer! Murder is a sin!” she started crying, and he could hear the noise of her thrashing around and her small, frightened noises as she sobbed uncontrollably.

“Mamma!” he shouted, but a strange voice came on the line – probably an orderly, telling him sympathetically that his mother couldn’t talk right now but he should call back tomorrow after she’d had her medication – and the line went dead.

He slammed the phone down, kicked the wall and beat at it with his fists. _Fucking fuck._ He was going to be the only person without family or friends at his passing-out. Everyone else would be clapped, applauded and toasted with champagne at a picnic lunch, but he - ?

Was there any point in finally getting what you wanted, if there was no one around to celebrate with you?

Finally, when he felt calmer, he took a deep breath, rubbed his face and turned around.

Even was standing behind him in the queue.

His usual arrogant glare was tempered by concern and surprise. “Valtersen?” he said, shocked at the sight of Isak’s reddened, puffy face. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh nothing.” Isak shouldered past him, but the pain in his chest was too great. “Just my fucking mentally-retarded psycho mother tearing me up again,” before he was off, running down the corridors to seek solitude somewhere behind the barracks where nobody else would notice the hot tears squeezing themselves from his eyes.

 

***

 

**LOCATION: RONDANE MOUNTAINS, NORWAY.**

**TIME: ONSDAG 19 MARS @ 0800**

Isak emerged from the quinzee to a leaden-grey sky and the smell of coffee. His squad were already cooking up breakfast over a few sticks of fuel but something was wrong. They didn’t smile at him or straighten up expectantly as he approached; there wasn’t the laughter or the positive camaraderie in the air that he remembered at the beginning of their mission. Instead his team scuttled round, gazing at the floor, intent on their own particular tasks, barely speaking to or looking at each other. Yousef was sitting fiddling with his compass and maps, looking tense, and Saetre packed and repacked her circuitry obsessively, casting anxious looks in his direction.

 _They’re scared of me_ , he realised. _They’re scared because I acted like a total fucking dick yesterday._

“Guys, gather round,” he said, pouring himself a brew. “I’ve got something important to say to you.”

There was a nervous pause, before Telemark shuffled towards him, tired and dejected.

Isak knew he had to nip this in the bud. The one thing they couldn’t afford to lose today was their winning instinct. A matter of a few marks separated them from Narvik, and if they could only get to Gravskardhøgda first then the victory would be all theirs.

“Yesterday was a tough day, and we all had our moments. We went off track and lost precious time, and we lost some of our radio circuitry and had a few personal moments – at least, I certainly had mine.”

He waited, and a few rueful smiles broke out on his team’s faces.

“But I want you to know that I’m very proud of you all. We had a shit day, but we got through it, and I’m all the better for a good night’s sleep.” He resisted the urge to throw a meaningful glance in Even’s direction.

“Look over there.” He threw an arm out and pointed at a smoke trail trembling on the western face of the Rondane. “By my guess that’s Stavanger team to judge from their direction. They’re probably about five kilometres behind us. And this –“ he pointed at a dark blot on the slopes above them – “that’s probably Narvik. By the looks of things they’re already over the scree face, so they have the advantage. But as far as I can tell, they’re too far up – they should have chosen to hug the tundra-line instead, so they’ll need to come down and adjust their course to clear the drifts of loose snow, unless they want to slog through it which will cost them time. So actually, we’re in the best position here; all we have to do is hold our nerve.”

The squad nodded, their faces clearing. Isak knew he was on to something here; if he could only ignite their belief in themselves again.

“I've been told we’re in for a bit of snowfall, judging from the sky, so we’re going to pack up and sled down through the crevasse at the bottom of Gravskardhøgda as quickly as we can. From then on, it’s a short climb up to the mountain’s shoulders, and then we’ll start building as soon as we get transmission.”

They all knew that the gulf between Gravskardhøgda and the Rondane was deep, and at the lower levels a clear signal would be impossible. They had to climb a certain amount of height to gain the clear transmission that they needed, in plain sight of the other two teams, and then the race would be on.

He paused and took a deep breath.

“Who’s with me?”

“YES SIR YES SIR!” roared his team fiercely.

There was a grunt from behind him and he turned to see Even wandering up from the tree-line that they used as a latrine, zipping up his flies. His jaw dropped. He’d been so sure that Even was behind him, listening to his rousing Henry V speech – because if there was anyone they needed in the zone right now, it was Even Bech Naesheim.

“What?” Even’s face was frowsty and sleep-marked, stretching luxuriously in the early morning light. “What’d I miss?”

 

***

 

**0930**

Before it all went to hell, the morning was fun.

They packed their kit onto their pulks and skimmed down the slopes towards the icy green-blue crevasse that carved a deep path underneath the western slopes of Gravskardhøgda. Noora and Chris went first, screaming in excitement like children as the sled zipped back and forth under Chris’s skilful handling, avoiding the small peaks of rock that could spill them out and break their equipment in a moment. After them went Yousef and Magnus with a whoop; they weren’t so lucky and their _pulk_ up-ended after a while, scattering their timber and tools in an untidy mess.

“Get that stuff back on the sled, cadets!” Isak roared from the slope above them, and Yousef gave the thumbs up, as he and Magnus struggled to re-pack the sled and pull it out of the way.

“Ready?” said Even in a low, dark voice, standing looking at him.

Isak glanced at the last of their mess-stores, lashed on to the top of the pulk in an uneven lump. There was scarcely enough room for one on the sled, let alone two, unless he sat atop the stores and steered from there. “Shall I go on top?”

Even grinned as he settled onto the back of the sled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Isak rolled his eyes and wished he wasn’t blushing quite so hard. “You’ll have to hold me,” he said reluctantly, decisively not looking at Even. “Otherwise I’ll fall off. You’ll have to hold me tight.”

Even nodded, his blue eyes dark. “Well, I can certainly do that, captain.”

Isak braced himself on the mess-stores and took the ropes. He wished he didn’t feel the jolt of pure adrenalin as Even wound his arms around him – and he hoped that his padded jacket was thick enough so that the other cadet couldn’t feel his heart going quite so fast. But as he felt the bulk of the soldier nestle onto the back of the sled behind him, he could feel Even’s chest pounding like a trapped bird, and the thought that Even was nervous too was strangely reassuring.

“Move,” he whispered, his hands tightening on the ropes. “Let’s go.”

Even pushed off, and the air around them exploded into a flurry of white snow, stinging particles of loose drift flung up around them in a haze. The mountain range wheeled and swung around them, first left, first right, as they soared down the bumpy slopes and into the eerie blue-green light of the crevasse, careering first in one direction then the other. They whipped past Magnus and Yousef still re-packing their sled, and Isak guided them round in an arc through the low channel of the crevasse until they came to rest at the bottom of one of the lowest drifts, right under the peak of Gravskardhøgda itself.

Isak caught his breath as they slowed to a halt and sat back in relief. Even’s arms were still wrapped around him, and Isak wished the touch of them didn’t make him feel so light and so dizzy and so weak for a moment.

“We need to get up,” he murmured, making no move to free himself from Even’s grip.

Even groaned and dropped his face onto Isak’s shoulder. “Ugh. Can’t we just stay down here forever?”

Isak’s heart skipped a beat but he forced a laugh. “Ha ha. You’re funny, Naesheim. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you didn’t even want to graduate.”

Even shrugged, still holding Isak tight in a bear hug, the tuft of fair hair at the front tickling the back of Isak’s neck. “What if I don’t?”

“Don’t what? Want to graduate?” Isak pushed his arms off and turned to him in a panic. “That’s not the way to be thinking right now, Naesheim, we _need_ you. We’re just hours away from the radio exercise, we’re only hours away from _winning_ this thing!”

The other cadet shrugged, and for the first time Isak saw the expression of defeat in the blue eyes.

“I don’t know, Captain. I don’t know if this is what I want any more. What the fuck is the point of the Army? What good am I in it? I mean, what is it all _for_?”

“Cadet? _What_? Listen to me!”

Such was Isak’s consternation that he turned around, grabbed Even’s shoulders and shook him lightly, staring intently into the blue eyes. “If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for your team. They’ve worked so, so hard for this, and they need you. _I_ need you!” His face flushed slightly but he pressed on. “If not for anything else, can you do it – for me?”

Even gazed at him for a long second, and Isak could see a light rekindle in his face.

“Okay, captain,” he said, biting his lip in determination. “I’ll do my best.”

Isak bumped him on the shoulder with his fist, bro-style, because after all, it had been a bro-chat. Naesheim was clearly still in a bad way over Sonja, but if he could hold his nerve for the next few hours, they could bring this thing home.

They started to walk wordlessly up the canyon and into the daylight, dragging the _pulk_ behind them. In front of them rose Gravskardhøgda and the plateau where they were to build the radio station. As they emerged into the expanse of blinding whiteness Isak breathed a sigh of relief. No other team was on the snowy slopes in front of them.

The mission was theirs for the winning.

At that moment there was a shout, and Noora came bounding down the upper slopes in front of them, waving frantically.

“Captain! Captain! There’s an emergency!”

 

***

 

**1130**

“Captain Valtersen! Telemark Squad! Come in, do you read me?!”

Simen’s voice, high with tension came across the garbled transmission, echoey from the effect of the radio waves being scrambled in the high peaks. Isak frowned and flipped the switch on the small portable radio, conscious of how Even was suddenly scowling at the sound.

“Valtersen of Telemark Squad here, controller. Over.”

“Oh thank God.” Simen’s voice was weak with relief. “I’ve been calling you and calling you, Isak, I was so worried –”

Isak’s face burned at the suppressed smirks of his team around him at Simen’s evident emotion, apart from Even who stared glumly down at his boots. “Controller, we’re fine. What’s the message?”

“Are you ok, Isak? Has the storm reached you yet? I couldn’t stop thinking about you – ”

Ugh. Isak felt so embarrassed right now; this was in public, for God’s sake, and who knew which officers were currently listening to this too. He strove to get Simen back on a professional level. “Controller, what storm? We’ve been in a crevasse coming through the Rondane with no signal for a few hours, we’ve only just got up far enough to transmit.”

“Isak? We sent the order to evacuate this morning! You have to get out of there now! There’s a bad weather front coming down from the north, it’s a code-red warning, you don’t have much time!”

Isak’s stomach plummeted. “ _Evacuate_? Simen, you have to be kidding me! We’re _here_ – we’re on Gravskardhøgda – we’re about to build the tower – I can’t believe this is happening!”

“It’s true!” Simen exclaimed desperately. “You have to abort the mission, Isak – I mean, Captain, immediately!”

“Shit!” exclaimed Magnus and Chris in unison and Yousef punched the air in fury.

“We can airlift you off Gravskardhøgda if you can get up top in an hour,” shouted Simen, his voice breaking with the effort. “But any longer and it’ll be too dangerous for the Cherokee to fly. You have to let it go, Isak, I’m sorry, but you _have_ to.”

Isak stood up, blazing with fury. They’d come so far – so far – and to have victory plucked from them at the last possible moment was more than he could bear. If the field mission scores weren’t taken into account, then the leader board would go back to the scores of manoeuvres, with Telemark in second place.

“I get it, captain.” Yousef was on his feet next to him, hand on his shoulder. “It sucks, but we can’t endanger the team. We have to go.”

Isak shot a look at Even. Even’s face was a picture; bewilderment and fury chasing over it. He took some comfort in the fact that Even was the only one that looked quite as disappointed as Isak felt.

“Schistad is bringing the chopper over now,” said Simen rapidly. “You have to scale the western face up to the ridge so we can let down ropes. You’ve less than an hour.”


	5. "Stand down, cadet!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions between Isak and Even reach boiling point as the snowstorm descends ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh I got asked to stay late at my job ON THIS DAY OF ALL DAYS so catching up now WITH A WILD WEATHER SMUTSTORM ON THE HORIZON ...

[ ](https://ibb.co/m2wKwK)

**LOCATION: RONDANE MOUNTAINS, NORWAY**

**TIME: ONSDAG 19 MARS 1230**

Telemark squad squatted, bitterly disappointed, in the lee of an overhanging boulder as the winds picked up and began to howl around them. It was almost -20 and the icy chill was creeping into their bones. A dark bank of swollen cloud moved in across the mountain and they watched it glumly; the storm was about to hit, at the very time they should be completing their mission.

All of them were too low to talk. After a desperate struggle they had hauled up their equipment behind them onto the ridge and lashed it together so they could be airlifted off with the minimum of ropes, and now they sat lumped together, waiting for the helicopter, without even the comfort of tea in the piercing wind.

“I can’t believe it,” groaned Chris Berg, head in her hands. “We’re the first squad to reach Gravskardhøgda – surely that counts for something?”

Isak shook his head. “Dahl was very clear to the captains. No winner could be calculated until the teams get back to base; just because we’re the first ones here doesn’t mean that we would be the first ones to build the transmission tower or the first ones to reach Termingoen. If the mission is aborted, then our scores are still added up but the winning team don’t necessarily get total victory. It’ll all go on our manoeuvres.”

Even’s head snapped up. “Fuck,” he whispered furiously. “This can’t be happening.”

“We’ll graduate anyway,” said Yousef with a levity that no one else was feeling. “We just won’t _win_.”

The radio crackled into life, but it wasn’t Simen this time. “Stand by Telemark for pick up, five minutes.”

The voice was Schistad’s, and at that moment the distant clatter of the Cherokhee started to echo across the valley.

 “Sana will be stoked,” said Yousef morosely. “She knew she was going to win. I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

“Sonja will be pissed,” said Noora. “She was in a right mood already – she practically tore Isak’s head off the other day at target practice.”

Magnus laughed. “Yeah, I bet that’s why she went to get a good hard seeing-to from Schistad before we set off. Loosen her up a little.”

Even froze then turned slowly towards him.

“What did you say?” he said in a voice dangerously cold.

Magnus glanced at him uneasily and then up at the approaching helicopter. “Dude, forget it. I was just –”

_“What did you say?”_

The other cadet took a step backwards, his cheeks white. “Nothing, really. It was just a stupid joke.”

“Fuck your stupid jokes!” Even took a step towards him and pushed him, not hard, but it made Fossbakken pale slightly.

“Is this true?” asked Chris Berg curiously and Noora kicked her furiously. “Shush!”

Magnus took a step back. “I don’t get it, dude. Why are you so upset? I thought you guys had broken up?”

“Yeah, we might have, but it doesn’t give you any right to – ” Even went for Magnus again and Magnus dodged, tripping over one of the _pulks_ and landing flat on his back in the snow where Even towered over him furiously, fist raised.

Isak took a deep breath and raised his voice. “I’m going to have to ask you to stand down, cadet.”

Even didn’t turn, instead pushing his face into Magnus’s personal space.

“Fuck off, captain,” he said in an off-handed voice that made Isak’s blood absolutely boil.

“I said, STAND DOWN, CADET!” he shouted in a tone that made the entire team flinch.

Even made a movement towards Magnus and instantly Yousef and Chris Berg jumped him. Taken off balance, Even staggered and went crashing down in the snow, and for a few seconds there was a frantic whirl of pounding fists, kicking legs and flying snow. Isak piled in without thinking, and found himself on top of Even, straddling his legs and holding down his shoulders while Yousef and Chris pinned his wrists down on either side.

“What the fuck are you playing at, Naesheim!” shouted Isak, fury coursing through him, but at the same time wishing he didn’t want to grind down on Even so desperately.

Even swore and kicked at him, throwing Isak off to the side as he did so, and lunging at the cowering Magnus. "Come here! You fucker! Come here!"

"Stop!" cried Isak, but nobody paid him any attention. "Stop!"

In the fury of rage and desperation, Isak broke. He ripped open his pocket and brought out the short, snub-nosed revolver that he carried as part of the captain's emergency supplies, bringing it up in both shaking hands.

"Oh my God, Isak, no!" whispered Noora, but Isak was enraged. His blood was up, and he stood over Even and aimed it straight at his face.

“I SAID STAND DOWN, CADET!”

Even went limp and gazed up at him furiously, a tear of rage squeezing its way out from the blue eyes.

"What the fuck? You have a _gun_ too?"

Isak nodded viciously. "We're soldiers, aren't we? This is captain's issue, for emergencies. And if you don't calm down, Naesheim, _you're_ the emergency."

The squad was suddenly very still. Even shook his head as if he didn't quite believe it, and laughed abruptly and mirthlessly.

"What, you're going to shoot me now?"

Isak waggled the gun, painfully aware that it lost all its power if Even wasn't afraid of it. All of a sudden he felt foolish.  Once more, Even had caused him to lose his head - but this time in the most public and inappropriate of ways.

"I'm asking you to stand down, cadet," he whispered, his gloved hands trembling, and Even's face crumpled suddenly, as if he was a kid and this was a game he didn't want to play any more.

“Get the fuck off me, Valtersen,” he muttered angrily.

Isak shook his head, still aiming the gun at him, his voice sounding loud and flat. “Cadet, if you continue to endanger the welfare of the squad, I’m going to tell Dahl to disqualify you from Telemark altogether and have you taken back to base in restraints. Do you understand me?”

The other cadet glared at him. “You can’t do that!”

“Yes I can,” said Isak firmly – in truth, he had no idea whether it was possible or not, but intentionally harming a cadet squad’s safety was a punishable offence akin to court-martial. “You want to be air-lifted out of here in handcuffs like a little baby, Naesheim? Because I’ll do it, I swear to you I will.”

There was a sullen pause, and Even closed his eyes. He looked as if he was going to cry, so Isak got awkwardly off him, pocketed the gun and gave the signal for the squad to release him. He beckoned Saetre away for a quick, whispered conversation as Even struggled to his feet.

“What the hell? What’s going on?”

Noora shuffled awkwardly. “It’s true, sir. Sonja hooked up with Chris Schistad the night before we set out. Chris took photos on Snapchat and everything. Apparently they’re all around the squads.”

“I’ve seen them,” supplied Magnus, getting to his feet shakily and joining them. “They’re hot. I think that's why Even is so pissed because I brought it up.”

“But they’d already broken up when she got together with Chris?” Isak didn’t get it, there was something he wasn’t getting a handle on. “Had Even already dumped her, or did he dump her because of Schistad? Because last I knew, at the tank exercise, he was cracking on to _me_.”

Saetre shrugged. “I don’t know, sir. But yeah, Even’s in a bit of a state. I’m worried – I’m worried there’s going to be a situation, sir.”

Even was standing, rubbing at his injuries and staring up at the overhead helicopter, eyes blazing. Noora glanced at Isak worriedly. The chopper drew nearer, propeller whirring in the juddering winds, and the first ropes were thrown down. Instantly Yousef and Magnus started securing them to the equipment.

Isak stood in front of Even, needing to shout to make himself heard in the din of the helicopter. “No trying anything, Naesheim. You need to calm down so we can get off this mountain, and then you guys can talk and sort it all out!”

"Where's your gun, Valtersen? Think you're a big man, huh?"

Even threw himself down and buried his face in his hands. Isak turned to stare up at the helicopter, his mind a whirl. This mission had absolutely gone to shit, in more ways than one.

"Listen, Naesheim," he began, but Even shook his head. "I don't want to hear it."

Isak went down on one knee and reached towards him. "Naesheim, listen. I just want you to know - I would never -"

"You're a soldier, aren't you." Even raised his head, his eyes swimming. "That's what you do, one day. That's it, captain. I'm done."

 

Isak turned away in defeat and automatically went to check on the rest of his team. Shaken by the violence of the encounter, Berg and Saetre were already lashing themselves to the ropes in preparation for being hauled up, and Magnus joined them with alacrity, securing up the rest of their equipment to the pulley.  From the nose of the aircraft Isak could see the smirking, goggled face of Schistad staring down at them. The pilot waved his hand, a trifle insolently, and Isak could see him mouthing _Hi Kids_.

“Hey!” Yousef was waving and pointing frantically at him through the clatter of the engines. “Captain! Look!”

Isak turned and his jaw dropped open. Even had broken into a staggering, loping run, and was racing _away_ from the helicopter and down the mountain into the very eye of the storm.

“Naesheim! What the fuck?” shouted Isak and plunged after him.

 

***

 

**1300**

Even must have been a quick runner because he was already out of sight by the time Isak rounded the boulder, and he had to stumble downhill for a good five minutes before he caught sight of his distant form lurching towards the tree-line. The winds were beginning to howl down the mountain and showers of splintering ice-particles whipped into his face.

“Naesheim, stop!” he shouted furiously, waving his arms. “Stop!”

But Even struggled on. Swearing, Isak forced himself to follow. “Naesheim! You get back here and you get on that chopper! Now!”

"What?" floated back to him. "Or you're gonna shoot me?"

Even had already reached the tundra line and ducked behind a line of scrubby trees. The blistering wind hit Isak’s panting form at a hundred miles an hour, making him stagger and drop to his knees momentarily.

_Fuck. Do I go after him, or do I get back to my squad?_

Behind him the noise of the helicopter’s engines changed and he turned in sudden horror.

“No! Wait!” he shouted. “I’m coming! I’m coming!”

But the helicopter was rocking wildly from side to side in the stinging winds; any longer and it could easily crash onto the mountainside. Schistad was a good pilot but he couldn’t fly in a thunderstorm, and Isak knew that no pilot would endanger the lives of the squad already aboard.

Shivering with cold, he watched as the helicopter pulled up its last ropes and took off, just in time, Schistad’s goggled face mouthing the word _Wankers_ accompanied by the appropriate gesture. Behind the disappearing chopper the huge banks of cloud unloaded their vicious storm onto the bare mountains. A vast curtain of snow moved across the Peak and down towards them.

They were completely alone and cut off.

Without equipment or supplies in the middle of the storm-wracked wilderness.

Isak was going to _kill_  Naesheim for this.

 

***

 

**1400**

Even was waiting for him at the tree-line. At the last moment, seeing Isak’s furious face, he turned and tried to run, but Isak flung himself at his legs in a rugby-tackle, bringing both of them thudding down face-down into a pile of snow. In a moment Isak was up, his weight heaved on Even from behind, arm braced around the other cadet’s neck in a chokehold, squeezing his throat hard until Even gurgled and grabbed at his arm to free himself. Isak didn’t let him, lying flush against Even’s back to pin him down, too furious to be even slightly hot and bothered at the feeling of Even thrashing helplessly underneath him.

“What the fuck are you playing at, cadet?” he screamed in Even’s ear. “Why did you run off like that?”

“Ah – ah, get – get off me!” gasped Even, twisting himself until he was lying face-up under Isak. “You’re not supposed – why aren’t you on the helicopter?”

“Because one of my squad did a runner, you idiot!” Isak twisted at the arm of Even’s that he held. “And I couldn’t let him just do that. On his own, in the middle of the wilderness! But now we’re stuck out here with no food, no shelter, nothing!”

Even throbbed with anger below him. "Well, I guess you can use that gun now," he said viciously and Isak sat back in defeat.

"Look," he said, reaching into his pocket. "Even. Please. Look at it."

Even glared at it furiously, before his expression abruptly changed in realisation. The gun was a Fjeren flare pistol, loaded with blanks, primarily for protection against charging or goring deer, or to send up signals if lost. The other cadet blew out his cheeks and pushed it away. 

"It's a blank gun, Naesheim. For deer."

"So I'm a deer then, you fucker? You wanted to scare me?"

Even's face contorted in rage, and Isak ducked away from the punch that was levelled at him.

"Stop! Fuck! Naesheim! I get that you’re pissed that Sonja fucked Schistad, but couldn’t you have waited until we got back to base before – ”

“What?” Even coughed into the snow bitterly. “Sonja can fuck whoever she wants, I don’t give a shit.”

Isak was so surprised that he let go of Even abruptly and Even pulled himself free of the chokehold and sat upright, his eyes blazing..

“That’s not what you said a minute ago!” said Isak, amazed. “You just about floored Magnus because he told you.”

“I already knew!” spat back Even. “I was pissed about the photographs thing; Schistad is a dick and he'll get what's coming to him over treating a girl like that. But I was more pissed that –”

He broke off, trying to swat Isak away. “Look, we need to get going. We need to find shelter, we’re going to freeze to death out here.”

“And whose fault is that?” Isak screamed at him, grabbing furiously at Even’s hands, and the other cadet pushed angrily back at him.

“Your little boyfriend was burbling away on your radio in the quinzee this morning telling us to turn back _exactly_ when you were off giving your homecoming queen speech to the team saying how important it was we came first. I just wanted you to be able to win, you wanted it so badly, it was all you talked about – ”

“WHAT?” roared Isak incredulously. “YOU KNEW THIS MORNING?”

“I didn’t want to tell you,” Even sobbed, “I knew if we kept going we should be first on Gravskardhøgda. I didn’t realise that – I didn’t realise that it wouldn’t _count._ ”

“You twat!” Isak’s fist soared into Even’s cheek with a thud. “I can’t believe you did that!”

Even gasped in pain, flinching aside, and brought his hand up to his face, wincing. “I did it for _you_ , asshole!”

Isak ducked as Even sent a haymaker punch his way that glanced painfully on his shoulder, and he pushed Even’s hands roughly above his head. “I never asked you to pull any shit like endanger our fucking team!”

“Oh really? All the “do it for me, Even,” and “come on team, who’s going to be first,” and team bonding and all that shit? You wanted to _win_ , Isak, that’s the _only_ thing you want out of this. You don’t care about any of us on the team, not really, not me, not the girls, or Yousef or even your fucking boyfriend. We’re all just means to your end. You’re a – I don’t even know how to say it – you’re a fucking machine!”

“I’m not a fucking _machine_!” Isak snapped at him. “And he’s _not_ my fucking boyfriend!”

Even’s eyes darkened. “Well that wasn’t what it looked like when he was wrapped round your fucking dick or sending you pictures of his -!”

Isak went for him again with an uppercut, Even intercepted it easily, gripped his wrist roughly to the side and pulled his head down for a bruising kiss, the other hand wound in Isak’s hair. For a moment it was all cold lips, hot tongue and hard teeth and was so sudden and unexpected that Isak gasped and staggered and almost collapsed on his side.

“What the fuck are you doing, Naesheim!”

Even glared at him, getting up and towering over him. “You always treat your guys like this? Use them then chuck them?”

“What guys?” Isak gazed at him furiously, his mind in a whirl – _cold lips, hot tongue_ – He shook his head to clear it. “What the fuck are you on about?”

“That brunet kid? Chris Schistad? _Me_? Chris wouldn’t fucking shut up about you all last year, I swear, it was like he was on crack or something. And that little brown-haired kid is so gone on you it’s _embarrassing_ , not to mention all that eye-fucking you do with me when I’m with Sonja – when I _was_ with Sonja rather – even _she_ noticed it – ”

Isak raised his gloved hand to his lips, willing the sensation and taste of Even away. “You’re a fucking nut, Naesheim. What do you mean?”

“Don’t call me a fucking nut!” Even swung for him and Isak dodged, ducking the blow and giving him a sharp kidney-punch which made the older cadet gasp and fall to his knees. Instantly Isak tripped him, rolling him back and landing short hard punches over his chest and face, as their knees and thighs grappled for supremacy of the other. Finally he was astride Even, his arms pinning his shoulders to the ground, feeling the taller man struggle helplessly beneath him, and yes, there it was again – the urge to rock and grind against him –

“Fuck, Isak, _stop_ fucking around –” Even groaned, his hips surging, pulling desperately at Isak. “Come here.”

His hand tightened on the back of Isak’s head and his lips brushed Isak’s neck, leaving a stream of sparks behind them – or so it felt. Isak grabbed at him, pulling his wrists together and down between his knees where he pinioned them tightly.

“What the fuck, Naesheim,” he said again, lurching forward and kissing Even violently – he might as well know how it felt – but Even let out a sound somewhere between fury and want and opened up to him. Isak’s stomach whirled and his head went blank as he fell into the softness of Even’s mouth, his tongue searching urgently between his maddening lips, every sensation of his body concentrated into the feeling of Even kissing him back.

The roaring wind faded around them for a few glorious minutes; Even’s thighs went limp, rocking against him as if they had a mind of their own. Isak pulled his hands free and cupped his face with snowy gloves, feeling Even's face angled up just right under his own, submitting to the force of his kisses with a willingness that made Isak’s head swim.

“I’m going to fucking _kill_ you when we get back to base,” he groaned into Even’s mouth.

“Shut the fuck up, Valtersen, and kiss me.”

Even’s hat had fallen off and the snow was spattered in his floppy blond hair, and Isak wished he could remove his gloves to feel what it was like to pull it through his fingers. He had to settle for clumsy grasping at Even’s hair, pulling him this way and that, delighting at the noises Even was making as their hips finally connected and began to roll together –

At that moment, the storm hit.

 

***

 

**1730**

“Fuck you, Naesheim!” screamed Isak into the howling wind as they crawled through the driving snow. It seemed that they had been going forever, but in reality it could only have been a couple of hours. Even was ahead of him, checking his compass, and beckoning through the whipping branches of the trees as Isak stumbled behind cursing him fluently.

“We’re going to wind up dead on a fucking mountain, all because of your stupid fucking pride, Naesheim!”

“No, _your_ stupid fucking pride,” Even corrected him, dragging at Isak’s sleeve and hauling him through a fringe of bushes. “You’re supposed to be on that chopper right now, but oh no, you had to do the big hero rescuing act.”

“You’re _my_ cadet! I’m responsible for you!”

Even shrugged, as if none of it mattered to him. “Should have thought of that before you tried to shoot me."

"I did not try to shoot you!"

"Moan all you want, but if you stop now, we’re dead.”

“Where are we even _going_?” Isak swatted at him pettishly. “We should be building a shelter or something.”

Even shook his head, gripping Isak’s wrist and tugging him forward. “No, there’s something a little further up. Come on!”

“What? Where? There’s nothing, Naesheim, there’s only a fucking wilderness here, that’s the whole _point_ of this mission –”

Isak stopped short. In front of them, discreetly built between the trees, was a small park ranger’s cabin, solidly-constructed, of the type used for temporary hostelling of park-workers on patrol, or to help with treating injured animals or people.  

“You knew this was here?”

Even shrugged, pounding on the door but it was immediately apparent the cabin was deserted. “There’s always a couple in the big parks, so I made sure that I knew where our nearest one was. In case – ” and he broke off.

“In case _what_?” Isak shouted at him, his anger somehow intensified by the surge of relief coursing through his blood. “In case you decided to go fucking crazy and walk off in the middle of a snowstorm?”

Even glared at him. “Stop _saying_ that word!”

“What, _crazy_?” Isak pushed at him. “You are though, Naesheim, you’re crazy, crazy, _crazy_ –”

He broke off into a yell as Even grabbed him and spun him against the door. His back connected with the hard wood which burst open underneath him, toppling him into the room beyond as Even stepped inside and kicked the door shut.

“What the fuck are you –” gasped Isak, looking up at him.

Instantly Even was on him, pressing the weight of his body against Isak’s into the hard floor, melting snow sliding off him in wet clumps. It wasn’t particularly warm in the cabin but it was well insulated and decidedly warmer than the -20C windchill they’d just come in from. With the abrupt decrease in temperature, instantly the wooden floor was a mess of wet sludge and pine-needles around them.

“Just shut the fuck up,” mumbled Even into his shoulder. “Just – _please_ – Isak, _stop_ saying that.”

“Get OFF me!” Isak shoved at him, fiercely conscious of exactly how he _didn’t_ want Even to be straddling him just like this, thighs spread over his hips, the curve of his ass fitting exactly over Isak’s groin –

“This is all _your fault_!” he shouted, infuriated, but his words were abruptly blocked by Even leaning down and kissing him forcefully to shut him up again, his hips rocking maddeningly against him.

Isak’s senses surged into overdrive and before he knew it he was gripping Even’s thighs and thrusting up between his legs. Even gasped, as if in surprise, and started grinding down on him; and for a few minutes the sudden throb and surge and the delicious friction made Isak start to lose his damn _mind_.

With a sudden access of strength he grabbed at Even’s waist and flipped them over until the other cadet was underneath, Even’s arms slipping around his neck as Isak began to rut hard and needily against him. They were still both fully clothed but Isak could feel himself hardening and lengthening inside his trousers, and when he slipped a hand down between them to adjust his position he could feel that Even was too. Fuck, the other guy was _built_ – even through the thick padding of their polar uniforms he could feel that he was very sizeable indeed.

“Fuck you, Valtersen,” whispered Even frantically, bucking his hips into Isak’s palm as Isak stroked at him firmly. “Don’t you dare, don’t fucking stop.”

Isak had no intention of stopping; the other cadet’s legs wound round his hips, surging upwards against him with every thrust that Isak made. He groaned and dipped his head, feeling Even pull his nails through his hair as he sweated into his neck. At this rate he wasn’t going to last long, though he wasn’t usually a fan of dry-humping or coming in his underwear, if they stopped to undress he was worried he'd realise what a really, _really_ bad idea this actually was - 

“Shit, I’m going to – are you going to –”

Isak pulled himself up on straight arms, enjoying the view of Even flush-faced beneath him, a mess of sludgy snow and salty sweat and sodden blond hair. Angling his strokes so that he slid hard and fast over Even’s hard cock, his knees started to shudder and he knew the end was in sight. Even gasped, flung his head back and aligned his movements with Isak’s and for a moment it felt like a glorious, weightless feeling; almost like flying or skiing down a smooth mountain as his aching balls hit once, twice, three last times between Even’s legs before he felt them harden deliciously as the first sharp pulse of semen started to rise up his cock. He ground into Even, enjoying every flinch and movement of the other cadet’s body until they were both shuddering to a stop, sweat pouring inside their uniforms and their hair stuck against each other’s faces.

“Fuck, I’m a mess,” he growled finally, feeling Even’s body shaking with suppressed laughter. He looked down in surprise. Even was lying red-faced and giggling beneath him.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?”

“I just never thought,” Even gasped, “I never thought you’d look like that when you came.”

“Fuck off!” Isak pulled himself to his feet, feeling how sticky he was inside his trousers; right now he needed to clean up badly. He looked around the tiny cabin properly for the first time.

There wasn’t much; an iron stove with a pile of logs and a small bunk-bed with a bare mattress. A map hung above the bed with their location circled in red, and a small collection of tinned food stood with a bundle of candles on a table next to the stove. A tin bath lay tilted against the stove, with a funnel to pipe boiling water into it for washing-up or baths. There was no electricity, but whoever maintained the cabin had laid in sufficient supplies for any newcomer.

Even was sitting on the floor, breathing hard as he tugged off his sweat-soaked jacket and the outline of his muscles showed through his sodden thermals underneath. His gaze caught Isak’s and he flushed slightly, his mask of bravado slipping, and looked away.

"What - what do you want to do now, sir?"

"Well, I don't know!" Isak spread his arms expressively. "What was the plan, cadet? After you would run off alone in the middle of the wilderness, what exactly did you think you would do?"

Even stared at him rebelliously. "Draw. Have time to myself. Think. Plan my life. But as you chose to come chasing after me, I don't think any of that is going to happen."

Isak’s eyes narrowed and he squatted down, running his hand along Even’s pectorals, down over his stomach and back up again, making Even raise his chin on the tip of his finger.

“Cadet, I am still your commanding officer for the next few hours and you are still in my charge. We need to get through the next few hours until the storm stops and they come pick us up. But during that time you’re going to do exactly as I say, understand?”

Even nodded, looking at Isak with a dog-like intensity that made Isak preen. "Yes, sir."

Isak drew back and looked at him searchingly.

“Okay, well you need to get the cabin in order, cadet. Put the logs on the fire, and get some water boiling for a bath. Quick sharp.”

It didn’t matter that he still hated Naesheim for landing them in this mess – and by all accounts Naesheim still hated him.

For the next few hours they had _this_ – whatever it was - and even if they had to go back to their real-world hatred afterwards, this time, right now, was theirs.


	6. "You're Still A Complete Prick, Though"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AND THEY GET IT ONNNNNNNN .... * HIGH SMUT FACTOR, PROTECTION NEEDED *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry - had a computer fail and it ALL crashed - just got back it up now. Logistics! Anyway, enjoy!

 

**LOCATION: RONDANE MOUNTAINS, NORWAY.**

**TIME: 2121**

[ ](https://ibb.co/eNFq3z)

"This is all your fucking fault, cadet, you know that?"

It was later that evening and the cabin was transformed; the fire was crackling in the stove and the steam rising from their sweating bodies in the close atmosphere made the windows fog. Their discarded, padded polar uniforms lay dripping in the corner, and Even was running hot water from the stove into the bath. The bath wasn’t really big enough for two, so Isak lay back in it while Even sat in his lap, long legs hooked carelessly over the sides. Isak had ordered Even to wash him all over, ending up with him soaping up his cock and now Isak was hardening up rapidly under the other cadet’s skilful touch.

"Fuck you, captain," Even muttered rebelliously. "You didn't _have_ to come with me, you know."

"Shut up and wash my balls, cadet," Isak grunted in response, grabbing Even's hand and leading it back to his dick.

To be clear, Isak didn’t suddenly  _like_ Even now. Even had still fucked things up royally for him, to the extent of getting them both trapped on the mountain – no, he _didn’t_ like Even, and Even still didn’t like _him,_ if the things he’d said about Isak being a whining, man-using prick of a robot machine were anything to go by – so this couldn’t be counted as a reconciliation, or making love, or anything absurd like that. This was just – a way to pass the time until the storm faded – but if Even could carry on massaging his cock just like that in a warm mess of bubbles, Isak was pretty sure he could last those hours just fine.

And right now with his hair wet and his face flushed, Even was looking so hot, and beautiful and wanton – and for the next few hours at least – he was all Isak's.

“Fuck, cadet,” he panted, rolling his hands over the soapy swell of Even’s ass and grasping it firmly. “You’re so fucking insubordinate, you know that?”

Even groaned, his eyes looking suddenly dark and lost. He stroked Isak’s cock hard in reply, until Isak slapped at his flank sharply. “Answer me, cadet!”

“Yes – yes _sir_ ,” Even managed to gasp out, his lips slack and slightly open, rutting himself slightly against Isak’s hip.

Isak gripped his hair and pulled it painfully back. “This is all your fucking fault, and you’re going to pay for it, do you understand? Cadet, do you understand?”

Even nodded dumbly, his breath coming quick and short. Isak raised himself up onto his elbows. “Yes, _what_?” pressed Isak, and Even gazed at him, eyelids heavy and drooping, still rocking slightly over his lap with teasing, maddening friction.

“I’m sorry, _sir_ ,” Even gasped finally, and Isak felt the blood booming at the base of his cock, the hard need for sex overriding all other emotions. He pinioned Even’s hips with his hands, letting the other cadet grind across his painfully-hard dick.

“Fuck, that’s so good, cadet,” he groaned, “Don’t stop, cadet, that’s an order.”

“Is that good, sir?” Even arched his back sarcastically in a delicate, rolling motion, punctuated with in short sharp rocking movements that made an inarticulate sound escape from Isak’s mouth.

“Stop doing that or I’ll come already. Kneel up, that’s right. Now look at me.”

He pulled Even’s lips apart and began to play with his mouth using his fingers – fuck, he had a really beautiful mouth, soft and wide – and _those_ lips that Isak enjoyed pulling and pinching at until Even whined and tried to pull away.

“No, no, you stay right there, cadet,” he whispered, parting his lips with his thumb, measuring the distance from lip to throat with two of his fingers until Even coughed and gagged and pulled away.

“Okay suck it, cadet,” Isak murmured, pushing himself up until he sat on the edge of the bath, knees apart. “That’s it, fall in,” he groaned, winding his fingers through Even’s wet hair and pulling him to kneel between his spread thighs. His head fell back as Even’s soft mouth parted to let his cock glide over his tongue in one easy motion and deep into his throat.

“Fuck,” he gasped, his toes curling, grasping at Even’s head to keep him in check. “Oh my fucking God. Not bad for a straight guy.”

Even levelled him with a look as he tongued at Isak’s cock and let it fall wetly out of his mouth. “Fuck you. You think I’m _straight_?!?”

“Well, I thought – Aaah!” Isak’s eyes flew up in his head as Even rolled down his foreskin with both hands and let his tongue play gently over the hardened head and slit. “I didn’t really think at all, I just thought you hated me and I hated you, so –”

Even sucked hard on his cock at that for a couple of seconds until Isak was groaning and cursing at the stimulation, before pulling off with a sharp pop. “I _do_ hate you. You’re a fucking emotionless jerk who never thinks of people’s feelings!”

“What? I _always_  think of people’s feelings! Fuck, do that again!” Even was doing something incredible with Isak’s frenulum and unless Isak held him down there with both hands then he might stop and then Isak would explode. “You’re one to talk about other people; you’re a fucking privileged Army brat, you’re a _Bech Naesheim_ for fuck’s sake! – you’ve been born to rule since day one!”

Even scowled at him, stopping doing the incredible thing and instead stroking up and down Isak’s shaft, licking softly at the cluster of nerves just under the head until Isak’s knees started to tremble and his cock weep with precum. “Fuck, you’re such a bitch,” he scowled, drawing away so that Isak gaped needily at the loss of contact. “What about what _I_ feel? What if I don’t want to lead?”

“Well only you know how you feel,” Isak grunted, putting his hand on the back of Even's head and leading his entrancing mouth firmly back to his cock. “But I think you do. Want to lead, I mean. Which is why you hate me leading you so fucking much.”

“But I don’t know how to lead! I only know how to be me, and some people choose to follow me, I don’t know why!” said Even furiously, opening his lips around Isak’s dick and starting to circle it with his tongue, lapping at his slit.  

“Fuck, cadet, that's so good,” groaned Isak needily, his breath squeaking embarrassingly high as Even took him in deep before pulling off again, a trickle of pre-cum staining his lip. “We can’t all be fucking robots like you, Valtersen –”

“I’m _not_ a robot,” hissed Isak, tipping Even’s head back and tracing the outline of his lips. “Stop saying that!” He started to pat Even's cheeks and lips with the head of his swollen cock. "Now shut the fuck up, you prick, and suck me off."

Even swore at him but Isak pulled at his neck until he submitted, and Isak lost himself to the deep, rhythmic sucking for some minutes, alternating with fucking Even's face hard whenever the other cadet tried to insult him again. His mouth was deliciously wet and when he felt the familiar sharp ache in his balls Isak lasted exactly ten seconds flicking the engorged head of his cock against the other cadet’s plump lower lip before he groaned and sat upright, pulling Even to him.

“I’m going to come on your face now, cadet, or if you don't shut up, I'll come in your mouth.”

Even closed his eyes as Isak made a real mess of his face, shooting up over his cheek to his eyebrow and spattering his beautiful mouth, slapping the last of it out over his lips until Even’s face was coated in splashes of white. Using his thumb he rubbed the great wads of sperm into Even’s skin until he looked flushed and shining and dewy underneath his touch. Even moaned slightly and Isak’s chest constricted;

 _Fuck, he’s gorgeous_ , he thought against his better judgment, his heart pounding with an urgency that was more than sex. _He looks so good like this, fuck –_

Even opened his eyes and looked him dead in the eye.

“You’re still a complete prick though, Valtersen, you know that?”

 

***

 

**2330**

“Actually, _you’re_ the prick,” muttered Isak, his breath hot on Even’s neck. “You’ve never had to worry about anything in your entire life!”

Even’s body was deliciously warm, face-down underneath him and Isak was brushing his lips against the tiny hairs on Even’s back as he fingered him slow and deep, enjoying the steady stream of insults and curses that the other cadet was emitting.

“Fuck you’re so full of it, aren't you. Ugh, that’s good, more,” groaned Even, ducking his face into the mattress as Isak spat deliberately on his hand and added another finger. “Classic whiny Valtersen, _poor me_ , _poor me,_ everyone else has it easier –”

“You _do_ have it easier!” Isak circled his fingers inside him, searching for Even’s prostate. “Look at you, you’ve got beauty, brains, an important family, a gorgeous – well, a gorgeous ex –” Even gasped indignantly, turning into a strangled groan as Isak’s finger brushed against a place that made him gasp and jerk uncontrollably, rutting up against Isak’s hand.

“Fuck, yeah. There. Keep going.”

Isak slipped his free hand between Even’s legs to where he was rubbing his swollen dick against the mattress. “Let me do that, cadet.” His mouth watered as he palmed up and down Even’s length, feeling his own cock stir as it pressed against Even’s ass. “You really want this, don’t you, you needy little slut.”

“Not yet, not yet,” muttered Even, mistaking his movement, “I’m not ready.”

“Calm down, I’m going to wet you up a little more, okay?” Isak reassured him. “Stop being such a fucking pussy. Jesus. At least you _have_ parents! I won’t even have anyone coming to my passing-out, that’s how fucked up my family is.”

“My parents are fucked up too,” groaned Even as Isak ducked his head and moistened him up slightly with his tongue. “My dad has PTSD and my mum’s on Valium. My sister doesn’t speak to me anymore and I see a shrink every week. You’re not the only one with problems, Valtersen.”

“Oh, shit,” said Isak, slightly dismayed. “I’m sorry – want me to stop?”

“Don’t fucking stop,” gasped Even, reaching behind him and grabbing Isak’s wrist when it seemed as if Isak would pull out. “Keep going.”

“Well it didn’t seem that you have problems,” Isak objected, scissoring his fingers slightly so Even writhed at the sensation. “You always seem so – happy. Carefree, almost.”

Even laughed shortly, groaning as Isak squeezed his cock and starting to thrust into his hand. “You really see life through a filter, don’t you. Everyone’s better off than you are, huh. Who hurt you that bad?”

“Noone!” _Jonas. Mamma. Pappa_. “I’m not hurt!” Isak snapped, annoyed. “I’m perfectly nice!”

“Oh God, that’s so good, stop fucking _stopping_ , will you,” Even threw his head back and bore down on Isak’s fingers, circling his hips with a groan. “Noone acts like you do without a reason, Valtersen.”

There was a pause, broken only by Even's shuddering breaths and the warm, slick noises as Isak speeded up his finger strokes.

“It’s just, I liked a boy, once,” confessed Isak. “Who didn’t like me in _that_ way, so I thought that was the way things were. So when boys like me, I tend to push them away. I can’t help it.”

“Like that boyfriend of yours?” whispered Even, starting to jerk his hips needily. “The one you’re always dragging around and making out with in front of me? The one you get to send ass pics to you in the middle of a bloody mission?”

“Not in _front_ of you!” countered Isak. “You were rubbing yourself off on Sonja every fucking night, what was I supposed to do?!”

Even smirked bitterly. “Fuck, I wanted to suck you off so bad,” he whispered, his cock stiffening at the memory and leaking slightly into Isak’s palm. “I was so jealous. I almost marched into the shower and said, 'clear off kid, I’ll show you how it’s done'.”

Isak laughed in surprise. “Ah so that _was_ you watching us, was it? I thought it might be –”

“Fuck, okay, I’m ready,” Even pushed himself up on his hands and knees, looking back over his shoulder at Isak furiously. “Fuck me. Now. Hurry up.”

Isak quickly spat on his palm and wet himself up. “You sure?”

“Fuck off, of course I’m ready. Fuck, I want your dick so bad,” Even’s voice broke as Isak pushed inside him, hissing at the breach. “Ugh. God. Slower, calm the fuck down.”

“You wanted it, so shut up and take me, cadet,” Isak moaned, groaning in pleasure at the tight hot sensation massaging his cock on all sides, pulling Even’s head back by his hair as he bottomed out. He didn’t think he would have much stamina if he kept feeling like this, every inch of his dick surrounded by Even's warm wetness, and all of him consumed by the overriding urge to rut him into the floor.

“I’m going to fuck you now, cadet, understand?” he grunted as he began to move, gently at first and then faster. “How do you like it? How do you want me to fuck you?”

“Fuck me like you fuck your boyfriend,” whispered Even, his head dropping forward as Isak held his hips firmly and began to thrust, feeling Even’s ass squeeze around him, sending deliriously warm sensations through his entire body.

“He’s NOT my boyfriend,” Isak threw at him angrily. "Stop fucking saying that."

“Really?” Even looked back at him, tousled and heavy-eyed. “You’d better let him know that.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” grunted Isak, lunging hard and deep inside him so that Even gasped and shook. “Don’t ever tell me what to do, cadet, you understand?”

“Do you fuck him like you're fucking me?" moaned Even, rocking from the force of Isak's thrusts. "Is this how he feels when you fuck him?"

"He can take it harder than this," ground out Isak. "Do you want that? Do you?"

Even nodded frantically and Isak sped up, hips circling firmly as the other cadet cursed and wept, clinging onto the headboard of the bed. The wet  _slap-slap_ sound of flesh on flesh and stifled, stuttering breaths echoed through the cabin.

"Are you going to come in me or on me, sir?” groaned Even. “I’m close, sir, I’m really close.”

“Hold it, cadet, I’m not ready,” lied Isak, enjoying the optics of Even’s clenched fists and his shuddering thighs too much to chase his own release. “You’re gonna have to stay there and wait for me, that's an order!”

“Oh God, I can’t, I really can’t,” moaned Even, punching at the wall with one hand and fisting between his legs with the other. “I need, fuck, sir, I really need this –”

“Don’t touch yourself! Hands off!” Isak spanked him sharply, and Even swore at him but took his hand away, sinking to his elbows to bury his forehead in the mattress. Isak changed angle and tempo for a while, enjoying edging Even to the limit, alternating shallow, harsh strokes with deep grinding thrusts that made Even curse and weep and thrash underneath him.

“Fuck you, Valtersen, if you don’t let me come right now I’m just going to –”

“Shut the fuck up, you privileged little Army brat,” muttered Isak, administering three last hard spanks that sent Even over the edge and Isak with him, rutting down hard and sharp as he felt his cock pulse with a dizzying sweetness and intensity as he filled Even up. He fell forward over him with a stifled grunt, feeling Even moaning and spattering his own release out over his own belly and thighs. He swung one hand around them both to milk out the last of Even's orgasm and smear it over their conjoined dick and ass before Even's knees gave way and they collapsed together onto the mattress.

Finally Even elbowed at him weakly, his face a mess of sweat and tears.

“Enough, enough, I’m done. You're squashing me, Valtersen. Pull the fuck out.”

 

***

 

**0430**

“Why does Sonja hate me so much?” whispered Isak, as Even’s tongue slid deep between Isak’s buttocks, breaching him gently with a movement that made Isak whine, and hastily add, “Jerk me off while you fuck me with your tongue, cadet, okay?”

Even chuckled, low and deep, tongue circling Isak’s rim gently. “Jerk you off and fuck you with my tongue. Okay, captain, if those are my orders."

"They _are_ your orders! And why is she so pissy with me?"

The other cadet glanced up at him. "Isn’t it obvious? I’ve wanted to get naked with you from the first minute I saw you.”

“Well, okay,” whispered Isak, enraptured by the sucking motion that Even was performing on his ass, making him gasp and arch his back. “Before you ruined it all by being such a gigantic prick to me.”

Even laughed, kissing around Isak’s inner thigh and teasing at him gently with his fingers. “I thought you liked gigantic pricks by the way you’ve been bouncing on mine all evening.”

“God, your ego is insufferable.” Isak sighed and gripped his hair with his fingers to hold him in position. “But – wait, but how does she know? That you wanted to -”

“She found my sketch pad,” muttered Even shortly, flicking his tongue between Isak’s legs with short, sharp thrusts. "A few months ago."

“The sketch pad you draw mountains in?” Isak said curiously, hooking his legs over Even’s shoulders.

Even reached between his legs, massaging Isak’s cock with his large fingers. “Yeah, mountains. And other things. Like – you.”

“You draw me?” Isak found this more of a turn-on than he could have imagined. “Really?”

“Really,” murmured Even, sucking his balls, enraptured. “All the time.”

“Doing what?” Isak thought he could guess, but when Even suddenly sat up and tossed him the small sketch pad, his jaw dropped open.

“Oh my God!” Isak thumbed through the pages of pictures, featuring himself and Even in various states of sexual activity, his eyes widening. “It’s – it’s like the Karma Sutra sex manual for soldiers!”

“The reality is even better, though,” grinned Even, enjoying Isak’s fascinated response to the pictures. “And now I’ve got a few more to add to the list.”

“What are we doing here?” Isak turned the page and pointed to a sketch of a tangle of limbs in which both he and Even were clearly visible.

“I’m fucking you, and you’re upside down so I can give you a toe-job at the same time. It was just a little something that occurred to me. Sir,” added Even hastily.

Isak laughed, bracing his foot on Even’s shoulder and pushing him away. “Well, cadet, we’re going to try that one _straight away_.”

 

***

 

**FREDAG 21 MARS 2121**

After a full day of raging, the storm was dropping; the screaming of the wind that had hurled itself around the cabin was lessening and a greenish light began to filter its way through the huge snowdrifts heaped against the cabin windows.

“The lights are out tonight,” whispered Even, looking out of the window. “You can see them, burning up in the sky there.”

“The Aurora Borealis,” supplied Isak, leaning on Even’s shoulder to see. The luminous green flame fanned out across the dark horizon, flickering eerily. “I’ve never seen them up this close.”

He felt happy, relaxed and sated; he couldn’t even remember how many times they’d fucked, nor all the positions they’d tried, but despite them not having a wink of sleep or anything to eat save what they could suck from each other's cocks, he felt happier, more cheerful than he had in – in well years, really.

“So I guess we still hate each other, huh?” he groaned teasingly, sitting back down into Even’s lap, kissing him deep and searchingly. “And when this is all over, we can go back to normal, avoiding each other like crazy and giving each other dirty looks?”

Even stilled the kiss suddenly. “If you want,” he said quietly, before resuming his task without much enthusiasm.

“Hey, what’s up?” Isak pulled back. “I was kind of joking, you know. I don’t think you’re half the dickhead I used to think you were.”

“You’re still _every_ inch the dickhead I _know_ you are,” said Even, pursing his lips, and Isak grabbed at him.

“Fuck, look at me! Even! It’s okay! Don’t get lost in your head there, what’s up?”

 “I’m leaving the Army,” said Even after a long pause, not looking at him. “It’s not for me. All my family have been in it – one way or the other – my father, his father, for generations. And I guess everyone including me just assumed I would too. But I can't."

Isak felt an icy chill coming over his chest. “You – you’d be throwing everything away,” he muttered confused, stroking over Even’s face with his fingers. “Don’t – please, Even – don’t leave.”

Even sighed. “I don’t want to be a soldier, though. I don’t know what I want to be, but it’s definitely not _that_. I don’t want to assist in illegal occupations in the Middle East. I don’t want to be in an Army that’s in thrall to the US and props up foreign campaigns run by that wanker President Trump. I don’t want to be tired and confused one black night and make the wrong decision that means an innocent kid ends up dead. I guess I don’t want to kill people, that’s the truth of it all.”

“You sound like Jonas,” said Isak wearily, sitting back on his heels. For some unaccountable reason he felt like he wanted to cry.

“Who’s Jonas?” asked Even, and Isak shrugged. “No one. The boy I liked. But when I joined the Army, he hated me for it.”

“I don’t hate you,” whispered Even, pulling Isak close. “Just for the record. Not one tiny bit. Not at all.”

“I don’t hate you either,” murmured Isak, pressing his face into Even’s neck and feeling the small wispy bits of hair tickle his nose. “I don’t think I ever really have.”

 


	7. "Did You Bang It Out?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the snowstorm is over - so are they. * weeps *
> 
> There's more than goodbyes to be said, however, and Isak gets a lot of good news ...

[ ](https://ibb.co/nmGiqe)

**LOCATION: RONDANE MOUNTAINS, NORWAY.**

**TIME: LØRDAG 22 MARS 0600**

The _thwack-thwack-thwack_ of the helicopter echoed over the Rondane early the next morning as Isak and Even, now fully dressed in their dried-out uniforms, stumbled up the newly-snowed slopes and waved at it. The search flares that the helicopter was sending out flamed and died on the slopes as the chopper spotted them and started to circle excitedly above like a whining bee, searching for a place to land.

“I guess this is it, then,” said Even, staring upward into the clear blue sky. The storm had passed, leaving an unnatural emptiness in its wake. “It’s over.”

Isak couldn’t reply. He felt turned upside down and shaken out. For a few breathless minutes last night, whether on top of Even or beneath him, he had thought – no, _felt_ – that something else in life could be possible –

But Even was leaving, and Isak _couldn’t_ leave. He couldn’t leave the Army, he couldn’t leave the family he’d built for himself, leave his _home_. If the Army was a machine, then he _was_ a machine; or at least an important cog in it. It was how he saw himself, it was who he _was_ ; and the idea of going back to the dull insecurity of civilian life, or worse still, his mamma and the unknown, made his chest constrict in panic.

“What will you do?” he asked Even, his gloved hand lightly brushing the other’s. They were all padded up now, no skin touching anymore; layers of clothes between them where before their bodies had sweated so closely together, their mental and psychological walls up too, avoiding each other's eyes.

Even shrugged. “Stay in Oslo. Be a painter. Travel? I don’t know, Isak, I haven’t got a Plan B; all I know is that this life isn’t for me. I have to tell my father first; I’ve no idea what he’ll say, and I guess I’ll decide then.”

“I’ve – I’ve had a really good time,” said Isak lamely, feeling as if no words would ever come close to what he wanted to tell Even. “Thank you,” he added awkwardly. “For – well, for making me think about things. I know I can be in my own head and judgmental towards others and a bit cold sometimes. I take people on face value and don’t care when I hurt their feelings. I’ll try to – try to change some of that. From now on. Okay?”

Even grinned and punched him affectionately as the chopper began to sink down onto the plateau above them, the wind sending blasts of icy particles in every direction.

“Just don’t be such a shit any more, Valtersen, okay?”

“Fuck off, Naesheim.”

 

***

 

**0700**

Isak braced himself for the inevitable confrontation between Even and Christoffer Schistad, but he was surprised to see it was Tryggvason flying the helicopter, with Simen in the back. Simen was out of the door even before the propellors had stopped whirring, and stumbling down the mountainside towards him. He threw his arms around Isak and buried his head in his chest.

“Oh God, Isak, we’ve been up all night looking for you. I was so scared, Is, I’m sorry, I know you hate it when I get like this but I couldn’t help it.”

Isak put his arms around Simen as the younger cadet's tears stained the front of his uniform. His eyes met Even’s momentarily over Simen's shoulder, before Even dropped his gaze and turned away to the helicopter, wading wearily through the banks of snow, leaving a scattered mess of footprints behind him.

Simon sobbed and cuddled, and usually Isak would cringe at such needy emotion and push Simen away roughly, or walk off somewhere that the smaller cadet couldn’t follow him. But for now he just stroked him until he calmed down and patted his back, in as brotherly a fashion as he knew how; trying to comfort him while not leading him on.

“I’m so sorry for worrying you,” he said sincerely. “I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through."

"I'm sorry," sniffed Simen into his chest. "I know you hate it when I cry."

"Oh God, Si, that makes me sound like such a shit," groaned Isak, mopping up the other's tears with his sleeve. "I just don't do well with crying, okay?" He looked into Simen's eyes to reassure him. "My mum used to do too much of it when I was little, and now it just freaks me out. But - look. When we get back to base, I think we need to have an honest talk, okay?”

Simen gave a little, resigned nod. “Okay,” he muttered as he climbed up into the helicopter and huddled into Isak's side. "But can I - can I just hold your hand? Just - just for the flight. No more. Please."

Isak opened his mouth to object but it would have taken a bigger prick than him to refuse Simen in that moment. He let Simen entwine his small fingers in his, and glanced over at Even. The other cadet was already staring silently out of the window, plunged in gloom. 

At his entry, Tryggvason turned to fist-bump Isak's free hand, the relief evident on his face.

“Well I wasn't worried at all! I thought you two had probably found somewhere sheltered to bunk up together,” he said with a slight twitch of his lips. “I wouldn’t have thought anything _less_ of my two best cadets!”

 

***

 

**LOCATION: KRIGSSKOLEN WAR ACADEMY, OSLO**

**1330**

“So did you two bang it out?” Magnus bounced on Isak’s bed excitedly. They were in the medical quarters after Isak had gotten checked over and pronounced free of hypothermia or any other conditions. “Everyone’s been talking about it. Most of us think yes, because of the weird mood Even was in when he got out of the chopper, but mainly because of that massive hickey on the side of your neck.”

Isak’s hand shot to his neck in furious confusion. “Shit! Where?”

“Well there’s three of them actually, and by the looks of things, Naesheim must have a pretty strong suck … What!” Magnus laughed merrily at the crimson blood flaming through Isak’s face. “You did, didn’t you! Oh my God! Didn’t like, didn’t your dicks ice up or something? Or are you just superhuman, being able to bang in subzero temperatures …”

Isak shot out of bed and dressed in double-quick time, wincing at the look of his ravaged neck in the mirror; it looked as if he'd been set on by a plague of vampires. "So - what mood was Even in again?"

"Well it was a funny one; first I thought he was after a rematch, then he apologised for trying to jump me," said Magnus airily. "After I told him where he could find Schistad, he burst into tears and looked like he was going into battle. I don't think I'd want to be Chris right now, quite frankly."

Isak left Magnus pondering loudly and stalked off to look for Even, anxiously winding a scarf around his throat. On the way down to the mess-hall he passed Chris Berg – “Aye aye captain! Glad to see you back!” accompanied by an obscene pumping motion against her cheek - and caught Noora’s knowing eye as she hugged him in relief.

“I knew Even wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you guys,” she said, ruffling his hair. “Everyone was freaking out, but I knew that you guys would be okay.”

Isak snorted. “Please! If it was anything, it was me taking care of him!”

Noora winked. “Yeah, I’m sure you well and truly took _care_ of him. The sexual tension in our squad was so high I thought we might all combust at any minute.”

“Oh my God! Enough!” Isak held his hands up and walked off, passing Sana and Yousef – “I knew you weren’t dead, Valtersen!” greeted Sana. “That’s a hundred kroner you owe me, Yousef!” – and finally encountered Christoffer Schistad in the halls who was sporting a swollen, black eye and holding a bag of ice pushed to it.

Isak slowed and gazed at him in incredulity. “Shit, Chris! What happened to you?”

“ _Even_ happened,” explained Schistad shortly, allowing Isak a brief view of the huge black-and-purple organ before pressing the ice back and wandering away with a wince. “All over of some stupid Snapchat photos of his ex. You’d better watch yourself with that one, captain, that little bitch is possessive as fuck.”

Isak puffed out his cheeks as he entered the mess-hall, aware of a flurry of craning and pointing in his direction. It seemed uncanny how everyone seemed to know what had been going on. But then again, maybe it had been obvious all along, to everyone but him.

“Valtersen?”

Isak, lost in his own thoughts, had almost walked smack-bang into Even at the mess entrance before he saw him. Even had one wrist bandaged up and the graze on his cheek where Isak had punched him had been stained with iodine. He could also see, quite clearly the results of his last night's handiwork on Even's neck in scarlet and purple bruises as if the taller cadet had been mauled by zombies. The sight, and the recent memory of the sweat and taste of Even in his mouth made him blush, but Even didn't seem fazed - turning casually to greet him as if they'd just been discussing the football scores or whatever.

"Hey, uh, Naesheim," he said clumsily. "You okay?"

Even smiled, looking closely at Isak. "I certainly am now."

Isak suddenly flinched as the whole mess-hall suddenly erupted into clapping and cheering at their entry.

“They’re back! They made it!”

“What the fuck is happening?” whispered Isak huntedly to Even. “Why are they all cheering?”

“They thought we were lost, didn’t they?” muttered back Even. “We were gone nearly two days in a snowstorm, I guess they thought we’d had it.” He waved back at the cheering soldiers grandly, like a fucking _duke_ , and they loved it, slapping their hands together and whooping while Isak sweated and reddened and shoved his hands deep in his pockets. 

“Make out, make out!” shouted a wag, and the whole hall took up the chant excitedly. “Make out make out!”

“Fuck! What!” Isak wheeled around and caught Even’s eye. “What – how does everyone fucking _know?_!”

Even smirked, looking him straight in the eye, with a return of his cocky attitude. “Well, you know. With that hickey on your neck and this one on mine, it wasn’t that hard to figure out. I didn’t give them any details or a Snapchat, though, don’t worry.”

Isak gazed at him furiously. “Fuck you, Naesheim,” he ground out angrily. “You are the most irritating, infuriating prick that I have ever met.”

Even pulled Isak's face to his for a brief and bruising kiss.

“Shut the fuck up, Valtersen, and kiss me,"

“You owe me that hundred kroner back,” said Yousef's voice to Sana behind them. “I said before the end of term, and here they are already. Come on, pay up.”

 

***

 

**LOCATION: KRIGSSKOLEN MILITARY ACADEMY, OSLO.**

**LORDAG 22 MARS @ 2300**

 

Simen stood up as Isak made his way towards his table, and put his arms around the taller cadet's neck. "You came," he said simply. "I didn't think you would."

"Of course I'd come," said Isak feeling a little nettled. "I said I would, didn't I?" He checked himself; he really didn't need to make Simen feel any worse than he already had. The bar was practically deserted, but he still felt very on show. "We need to talk, Simen, we both know that."

"Everybody's talking about it." Simen stared at the table. "Do you like him more than me? Is that why -"

Isak groaned. "No, oh God, listen, Simen. There's nothing between me and Even any more. That's got nothing to do with - us."

The younger cadet's eyes met his. “Okay.” He rubbed his face against Isak's chest. “Look, I _know_ you don’t want me, Is, I can _feel_ it. I can’t help it though, I’m so stupid, you probably hate me for all of this –”

“Hey, hey stop that!” Isak grabbed him by his elbows. “I don’t hate you, and if anything I’m the prick here, not you. You haven’t done anything wrong by loving someone, Simen, don’t ever think that."

Simen gazed at him. "No?"

"No of course not! But I don’t want to use you or take advantage of you if I don’t feel the same. And - well I'm sorry, but I don't, and there it is. It’s all me, it’s not you, you’re –” Isak groaned. “You’re a really good person, Si, you’ll graduate and get posted soon, and then you’ll find someone who treats you well like you deserve. I know it.”

Simen looked down and turned away. “I don’t think I will,” he said softly, biting his lip. “No one ever seems to like me back.”

Isak rested his hand on his shoulder. “It might feel like that but – you’ll find someone who likes you back one day, I promise. Don't close your heart up, kid, okay?”

 _Why am I promising him this bullshit romcom happy ending?_ he asked himself infuriatedly. _No one has ever liked me back either- or at least, the one guy who seems to is leaving, so it all really comes to the same thing._

"Really?" said Simen in a small voice.

Isak smiled reassuringly. "Of course you will, kid."

He didn't even feel that bad for lying, as Simen gave a little, half-comforted shrug and the beginnings of a small smile. “I hope so." 

The door banged and there was the sound of voices at the bar. Simen snuggled closer.

"I know you're going to go now," he whispered, "but before you do, can you just hold me, just for a few minutes?"

"Uh, look kid, I really don't know," began Isak, but Simen shook his head. "You're not taking advantage of me. I _know_ there's nothing between us now. I just want to feel you a last time. Can we?"

Against his better judgement, Isak let the smaller cadet lie against his chest and pulled his arm around him for a few seconds. He dropped a kiss on top of Simen's elfin head for old time's sake.

"You're gonna be okay, kid," he murmured into Simen's hair, more to comfort himself than anything. "You're gonna be okay."

 

 

***

 

**LOCATION: KRIGSSKOLEN MILITARY ACADEMY, OSLO.**

**TIRSDAG 30 MARS @ 1500**

Isak shuffled his feet outside Tryggvason’s office. He had been in the gym when he’d received the summons from the officer, and had to run there all glowing and sweaty so he didn’t break his circuit. Now he was doing cool-down in the corridor, standing crane-style and stretching his quads and glutes so he didn’t stiffen up.

His phone beeped and he struggled to pull it out of his trousers, narrowly missing dropping it onto the floor. He turned the screen the right way round and instantly froze.

It was a text from Jonas.

_Hi mate. How are things? Long time no speak I guess, sorry. Ya know. Weed. Life. Thought about you a lot since you’ve been gone and I miss you, man. So I saw in the paper recently that the King was going to present medals at the passing-out parade in the Krigsskolen, and I thought of you. I know we haven’t spoken for a while, but isn’t this your grad –_

The message cut off suddenly, and Isak stared at it stupidly. Instantly the phone lit up with a second text.

_Shit, sorry, pressed send too soon, trigger finger. So I wondered whether you’d like me to come? It says people’s families are going and – I’d just like to see you, mate. See what you’ve made of your life. I’ll bring some beer and we can get ratted. If u want?_

Isak stared at his phone, close to tears for a long moment. _Jonas._

Jonas didn’t hate him. He hadn’t forgotten about him – hadn’t stopped thinking about him in fact – and he wanted to come to his passing-out, as his – he'd written as his _family_ –

The door opened and Isak snapped to attention, but instead of Tryggvason, Even came out and closed the door. He was wearing civvies – civilian clothes – a blue-grey hoodie and jeans that accentuated the blue of his eyes and made Isak’s heart stop a minute. The bruises that Isak had sucked so deep in Even's slender neck that night had all but gone. He put down the bag he was carrying and gazed back at Isak soberly.

“Hey.”

Isak gazed at him. “You’re leaving already?” he whispered, his chest squeezing painfully at the thought of Even – _gone_. “I thought you might at least stay until graduation?”

“Why? No point.” Even shrugged. He looked smaller and softer in his home-clothes and his fair hair fell awkwardly into his eyes. Isak longed to brush it out again with his fingers. “I’ll need to get a job while I get my portfolio together and decide what I’m going to do.”

Isak stared at him, memorising the soft line of his jaw, the swell of his lips and the curve of his cheek, wishing he could trace it again with his fingers or his tongue, but that moment was well behind them now. After their kiss in the mess-hall, which had been the talk of the entire barracks, they had exchanged a few furtive kisses here and there but nothing more; Even had been too withdrawn and Isak too shell-shocked at Even’s approaching departure, and their days had been crammed with preparations for the upcoming passing-out parade for the King.

“Did you talk to your dad?” he asked instead, battling an unlooked-for impulse to cry. “How did he take the news?”

“Not well,” said Even, forcing a smile and failing. “You can imagine – he always thought that I’d be in the Army and my son after me and –” He stretched his arms behind his head with a resigned shrug. “He’s an old dinosaur though, he doesn’t really understand about the Army modernising and diversifying – he doesn’t approve of women and Muslims and queer folk being allowed to serve openly – so now he’s processing me leaving and coming out to him all at the same time, and – Yeah.”

Isak’s eyes popped. “Wow! You – you _told_ him?”

“About you? Well yes. Not your name, but that – ” Even looked strangely pink and vulnerable for a moment. “I told him I’d broken up with Sonja because I liked a guy instead, and – Well, he didn’t take that part too well, so I guess I’m just going to have to go live with my mum for a bit, if she isn’t too high to have me.”

Isak swallowed and reached for Even’s hand, holding it in both of his own. “You liked me – _instead_? And that’s why –”

Even nodded, eyes shadowed. “Don’t worry, though. There’s no expectations on my part. I’m just glad I got to have one night with you, at least.”

“So that’s it?” Isak said, trying not to sound as breathless as he felt. “That’s it? We’re done?”

“I guess.” Even stared at Isak's fingers, examining his nails. “I mean, there's you and Simen, so -"

"We're over," Isak said immediately. "We've broken up. Officially, now."

Even took a deep breath, entirely failing to hide his relief.

"Well it's probably for the best. He's cute and smart, so he deserves a lot better than your sorry ass, anyway."

It was meant to be a joke, but neither of them laughed. Isak looked at him miserably. Even flushed. "Look, when you’re posted next month you could go anywhere – you’ll probably be sweating your tits off in Borneo or Cyprus or somewhere really far away. And a long-distance thing – I don’t know. That wouldn’t work for either of us, I don’t think.”

Isak forced a smile. It was true. Within three weeks, he could be on the other side of the world if the Army saw fit to send him, and he would have little say in it. That was the problem with having such a demanding family; it wasn’t one that you could say no to.

Isak gazed at him for a moment too long and Even misread his expression. “Anyway, I’m taking up too much of your time. Sorry.”

“No, no. I’m just going to miss you, that’s all. That night was – well, it was really special to me too. It felt like the first time I ever got to know you properly.”

It was the first time Isak had spoken that raw and honestly to anyone, and Even bopped playfully at his nose with his fist, then when he saw how serious Isak was he sobered up and stroked his cheek for a while with one finger, his eyes soft and intent.

“Goodbye Isak.”

They didn’t kiss. Isak looked back at him, soaking in every detail of his face to remember later. “Goodbye, Even.”

Even rallied a faint echo of his aggravating smile. “That’s the first time you haven’t called me a privileged prick or an Army brat.”

“Oh shut up, you privileged Army brat.”

Even smiled fondly. “Fuck off you whining prick.”

Isak’s heart lurched as Even walked away, bag slung over his shoulder. He sank down onto the bench, his knees weak, not wanting to watch him open the door, step outside, leave forever.

To distract himself he pulled out his phone and typed a quick reply to Jonas.

_Mate! That’s great news. I’d love you to come. Bring some jars of Ringnes, it’s my favourite, but remember you can’t smoke green on Army grounds. Also –_

He looked up but too late. Even’s tall figure was already walking up the drive towards the wide world outside.

Isak's eyes swam and burned from the effort of holding back tears, but he held his sobs back long enough to type:

_Also – I’ve missed you too, man. It’s been too long._

 

***

 

**1545**

“So I guess you’ve heard the news,” said Officer Tryggvason, sitting behind his desk staring at Isak. “It’s a shame that we’ve lost Naesheim, and I have – _um_ – an inkling you’re probably as upset about it as he is.”

Isak shrugged, retreating into his customary defensiveness. “He chose to though, didn’t he? He could have stayed on and graduated along with everyone else.”

“Well, I don’t think it was a decision that came easily to him, if that’s any comfort,” said Tryggvason, watching Isak carefully. “But I think that he also realised that – some of his decisions on the field were – _questionable_. And – well, frankly, we’ve both decided that it would be in his own interests to start somewhere else.”

Isak took a deep breath.

Even had started to open up a new kind of Isak in him, one who told the truth and was authentic about his feelings, and he guessed that he had to start practicing that now he was back at base instead of retreating back into his usual surliness. Emotional honesty was like a muscle that needed flexing, if he didn’t use it, then he would forget how.

He turned to face Tryggvason properly.

“Sorry, sir. You’re right, I am upset about Naesheim leaving. The Army isn’t right for him, though, he told me as much, so I guess we just have to accept that.”

Tryggvason nodded, his eyes kind. “Well, if you ever need to talk to anyone about it, then I’m right here, you know that, cadet? Or should I say - as from next week - Second Lieutenant Valtersen.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Isak slightly awkwardly. There was a pause. “Is there – was there anything else?”

Tryggvason pulled a file of papers towards him. “Well, there was _one_ thing. And I wanted to run it by you first. As you know, I’ve been Diversity Officer at the Krigsskolen for the last few years, and now I’ve received a promotion, which I’m _most_ astonished, and _delighted_ about.”

He broke off pointedly, looking at Isak, and Isak nodded, not understanding a thing. “Congratulations, sir,” he said confusedly.

“And _so_ they’re looking for someone to fill my place. It is primarily a teaching position, although it will of course involve leading and directing cadets in manoeuvres and helping train them; as well as being the focal point for minority soldiers to have their concerns listened to. A bit like I did for you when you had that little spot of bother your first summer, if you remember.”

Isak’s toes curled; he _did_ remember. The little spot of bother had involved him weeping and distraught in Tryggvason’s office as he finally confessed to why his mother was never able to be contacted as next-of-kin, and during that emotional time, he’d ended up telling the officer things he’d never told anyone before; about Jonas, and what the Bible said about gays, and how he really, _really_ hated himself –

And Tryggvason – or _Eskild_ , as he asked Isak to call him during that half hour – had talked him down and made him tea, and let him see that he wasn’t hateful or unworthy, but a person as individual and capable as anyone. It had taken a few months of chats with Eskild over coffee every week, but finally Isak had been able to face himself in the mirror each day – and a couple of years later, to be made squad captain as his final test.

“It would need someone that’s good at listening to people and emotionally authentic, as well as someone who’s a calm leader, and very loyal. From what I’ve seen from the field mission, this is you. You kept the emotional temperature of the squad, and didn’t leave one of your number out on the field, even when your own safety was compromised by the snowstorm.”

“But I wasn’t a calm leader, though,” said Isak, bewildered. “I had a go at people when they made mistakes – Yousef led us off track, Noora iced up the circuits and Magnus was acting stupid. And Naesheim –” he hesitated, but honesty won out again. “I pulled the flare gun on him. He was a bit all over the place to be fair. They were even scared of me on the final day because I was so mad at them the night before.”

“Yes, but you brought it back; you let them know after a good night’s sleep that you had calmed down and that they were safe in your charge. You built them up and made them think they could win again, even when they were on the brink of thinking they couldn’t. And you weren’t ashamed to bring Naesheim to heel when he lost his head with Magnus. You listened to people’s suggestions – Saetre, Acar, even Naesheim – and you took precautions when things went wrong. And if the weather hadn’t set in, your team would have won the field mission. I would say that you were the most outstanding cadet on the field that day.”

“Wow, okay,” breathed Isak, sitting a little straighter in his chair. “Thank you sir.”

“Being Diversity Officer, as it’s something of a teaching position too, would involve a salary increase from starting rate, and a fixed three-year term at least in Oslo,” said Tryggvason, watching Isak carefully. “Now maybe that’s not really enough for you – maybe you’d like something a bit more glamorous, or prominent on the world stage, instead –”

“No sir,” said Isak more quickly than he’d meant. “I mean, I’ll think about it, sir. I don’t know yet.”

Tryggvason nodded and slapped him on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit, cadet. There’s still some of the older ranks, the dinosaurs like Even’s father – who think that the Army is weaker now we’re valuing women and the LGBT community, or that it should go back to how it used to be. And there are some kids are growing up today who think that too. So it’s here – here in the training grounds that we can educate cadet’s minds, no matter how bigoted and prejudiced they might be at first – and show them that we’re all equal.”

He stood up and Isak snapped to attention and saluted. “At ease, Valtersen. Take a few days to consider the offer, and let me know after graduation, okay?”

“Okay,” breathed Isak, and when he was outside Tryggvason’s door, he allowed a disbelieving smile to break out over his face.

_The most outstanding cadet on the field that day._

He set off to the Army bar to meet Sana and Yousef, his step lighter than it had been for many months.


	8. "You're an Officer, but I'm no Gentleman"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Isak's graduation day and time for him to start his new life - when he gets a surprise - two surprises actually ...

**LOCATION: KRIGSSKOLEN MILITARY ACADEMY, OSLO**

**12 MAI @ 1100**

[ ](https://ibb.co/bKJzwK)

Oslo Krigsskolen was strung with red and white flags with the indigo hoist of the Norwegian cross flapping in the breeze. The spring sun was hot and bright and inside the old golden stone walls of the War College a stream of parents and friends was issuing up the driveway, all dressed in their suited and hatted best, carrying hampers and bottles of champagne in sweating silver coolers.

The King had arrived amid much ceremony and he and his wife were standing on a dais about to give a speech welcoming the graduating cadets into the Army. Behind the large constructed platform, resplendent in their caps and black buttoned uniforms with red stripe on the trousers, Isak and the other graduating squads waited puffing in the sun for the command to march. 

“So this is it, man,” he muttered to Yousef, next to him. “We’re finally graduating.”

"And Narvik won the field exercise," rubbed in Sana caustically, waving her winning captain's medal at him offensively. "Didn't I tell you, Issy? Where are those little bitch tears now? Kiss it, baby, kiss it."

"Ugh, shut up." Yousef groaned and Isak rolled his eyes, but in truth he found he didn't really care; in fact he wasn't caring about much at all now Even had gone. But there it was; it was over, and he guessed he just had to get on with his new life. He'd been left and dumped before, it wouldn't kill him, but it did make him feel - somewhat disassociated from all the excitement. 

Sana winked at Isak conspiratorially. “Still, you guys got something better than a mission prize that night, didn't you?”

“Oh my God! Shut up!” Isak punched at her, and laughing, Sana sashayed off.

"You ok?" Yousef was smiling at him gently. Isak shrugged and puffed out his cheeks. "I'll survive, I guess. Nothing we can do about it. I'm Army through and through, and he's - well, he's Even. It's nobody's fault."

Yousef looked down at the ground, sighing, before he shrugged and forced a bright smile.

"Things are tough with us too. Sana's been posted to Germany with Sonja next month, and I'll be in Bergen for the next couple of years."

"Oh wow, sorry to hear that." Isak nodded sympathetically. Some cadets had already received their postings and a few couples had been broken up with many tears; Noora and Chris Berg were going to be stationed nine thousand miles apart in Cyprus and Borneo respectively, and now Sana and Yousef were to be split too. The Army was a good but a harsh family; it demanded ultimate obedience, ultimate loyalty and its decisions could not be questioned. Perhaps it was for the best that Even had left when he did.

Not only relationships, but friendships were changing too: Christoffer Schistad would be seconded to a US-helicopter unit flying Black Hawks in Sierra Leone, and Magnus was going to be part of a construction team building wells in Iraq. The only thing that Isak had yet to decide was whether to take up the Diversity Officer posting that Tryggvason had offered him. Next to the new locations and exciting opportunities that his friends were setting out on, taking a teaching post in Oslo Krigsskolen did seem a little - tame.

And yet - Isak had learned something more about himself on that field mission than he could ever really say to anyone, at least just yet. When he was pointing the gun at Even, he knew - just knew - that he would never be able to pull a trigger. Not just because it was Even, but because it was a real human, a person of flesh and blood, and that however much protection and self-defence would be needed, Isak would struggle with active service in a war zone.

Whatever Even had said to him in the heat of the moment, Isak knew that he wasn't a _machine_. 

"Uh ... Valtersen? 

Isak turned and saw Sonja hovering behind them. Her trim uniform was crisp across her athletic frame, and her hair was freshly-brushed, but she still had a look of sadness around her eyes. They had run into each other a couple of times over the last month, but each time they had both studiously ignored each other’s presence. This time, however, knowing she would soon be off to Germany with Sana, Isak resolved to meet her square on.

“I’m sorry, Sonja,” he whispered in a rush of honesty – hark at him, he was starting to talk about _feelings_ and all sorts with practically _any_ body. “I didn’t mean for it to turn out this way. I never meant to break you and Even up, I promise.”

Sonja forced a smile, twisting her hands together. “I know you didn’t, Isak. I’m sorry I was such a bitch to you back then. When you guys were missing overnight – I kept thinking about you, I thought; oh my God, I’ll never forgive myself if the last thing I said to him was –” she broke off, biting her lip.

“It’s okay. You were upset. I just didn’t want you to think I was – snakey like that,” Isak amended, reaching out to pat her on the shoulder. “Nothing happened while you were together, I promise you.”

“I know. I just – I guess I just miss him, that’s all,” Sonja said sadly, and Isak shuffled his feet.

"Yeah, I miss him too."

The next second the irrepressible face of Chris Schistad swung next to them, putting a cheerful arm around both her and Isak together.

“We’re up next!” he winked at them, giving them both a suggestive squeeze and leer. “King can’t wait to meet his queens, darlings! Shall we?”

"Fuck off, Chris," said Isak and Sonja in unison.

"Unless you want another black eye, bitch," added Sonja warningly, and Chris ducked away hastily.

 

***

 

**1130**

The parade was a blur. There was marching, gunshots, the hoisting and saluting of a flag and the presentation of medals. Isak tried to strain his eyes to see out into the assembled faces to pick out Jonas, but he couldn’t make out anything or anyone in the crowd. The King shook his hand and said a few words; Isak said something back and couldn’t remember what. The medal hung heavy on his chest as he turned to the applauding audience and saluted. Finally his eyes fell on Jonas and his heart stopped momentarily, then began to thump in double-quick time.

Jonas was clapping, standing up in the front row, looking straight at Isak, grinning. He looked older and more hippyish than Isak remembered him – he wasn’t sure whether greasy dreads and a MAKE LOVE NOT WAR t-shirt was the usual wardrobe-drill for a passing-out parade – but that wasn’t what made his heart race like crazy.

It was the figure standing next to him.

_Mamma._

She looked better than he remembered – her hair was brushed and she was clean; he was glad of that at least. And she looked at least moderately aware of her surroundings, though Jonas had to point him out to her more than once, and when she realised where he was she jumped up and down and gave him an excited little wave like a child.

His eyes met Jonas’s, and he sneaked his best friend a grin. Jonas gave him the _thumbs-up-ya-wanker_ sign and mouthed the word PLAYA at him.

Isak grinned and his heart swelled as the band began to play and they marched out between the banks of applauding parents.

He had never felt happier in his life.

 

***

 

**1300**

“Fucking hell, Issy!” Jonas waded towards him through the packed picnic ground, an open bottle of Ringnes in each hand. “You’ve _grown_ , man! You’re like two feet taller! What have you done with my little drip of a best friend?!”

Isak couldn’t stop grinning like a lunatic as he threw his arms around Jonas’s solid frame and they hugged for such a long time their entwined arms got pins and needles. Around them all the other cadets’ parents sat on posh picnic cloths or on foldable luncheon chairs with glasses of champagne and plates of cured fish, toasting their newly-graduated sons and daughters. Isak could see Simen sitting nearby with his parents, but after a quick shy smile, Simen turned his back and started to talk to his father animatedly, probably about his new posting in transmissions to Iceland. Isak felt sad suddenly; if even Simen was moving on, then surely it was time for him to move on too.

Jonas was still hugging him, and Isak slapped his back before breaking the embrace, brought back to reality by his friend's presence. He took a long draught of sour Rignes from the bottle Jonas pressed into his hand, and was interested to notice that he didn't flinch or feel weak at the knees from Jonas's touch. Obviously he had moved on a lot in three years too.

“I’m amazed you didn’t start running a protest dressed like that,” Isak told him seriously, examining Jonas’s NO BORDERS scarf and his FUCK DA POLICE badge. His friend had obviously made an effort for the occasion; spreading a white bedsheet on the ground and dumping a large crate of beer bottles in the middle. It was nothing next to the other families’ gourmet luncheons but Isak loved him all the more for it.

He looked over his friend’s shoulder at his mother, shoes off, wiggling her toes happily in the breeze. “And how did you get Mamma to come?”

“Well she and my mom are still pretty close, you know? Mom used to ring her every week at the asylum after you left, and for the last few weeks she’s been trialling some new meds and they’ve really worked for her. She kept asking after you – she seemed to think she’d upset you or something – so when I saw the passing-out notice in the paper, I got in touch. She’s had a good day, I think.”

Isak knelt down next to her and held his hand out. “Hullo, Mamma,” he said quietly. It was best not to startle his mother sometimes, and he kept his expectations in check – sometimes any little thing could set her off. Just because she was here, didn’t necessarily _mean_ anything.

“Why, Isak, my baby!” she whispered, looking up at him in delight. “Don’t you look handsome in your uniform!”

Isak managed a smile as she leaned up and gave him a kiss on his cheek. She was normal today – or as nearly-normal as she could ever be – and sometimes this was the hardest for him; it made him wish that she _was_ normal, that there wouldn’t be the slide into chaotic crying or frozen disassociation, which made the brief periods of normalcy even harder to bear.

“It’s okay,” muttered Jonas, his hand on his neck, as if he could guess what Isak was feeling. “She’s having a good time. Let’s just take it minute by minute, yeah? We don’t know what tomorrow’s going to bring, so let’s just enjoy today.”

Isak smiled back and squeezed his friend’s arm. He’d forgotten what a comfort his friend had always been about his mother – and he was glad that Jonas was still in her life, somehow.

But Mamma was squinting past Isak with a funny look on her face. “Who’s that man over there, Isak?” she said, puzzled. “He looks like he’s waiting for you.”

“What man?” Isak turned, half-expecting Magnus or Yousef to be hovering behind him, but his jaw dropped open and he froze. Jonas followed his eyeline curiously and raised an eyebrow, but Isak seemed to have lost the power of speech.

“Hi,” said Even, shifting from foot to foot, looking nervous. “I’m – I’m sorry. I just – never mind. You’re busy, I’ll go.”

He was wearing a cream linen Italian-style suit and grey-checked shirt that looked maddeningly good on him. Under one arm he carried a small wicker luncheon hamper and in his other he held a bottle of champagne.

“No, wait!” Isak’s legs suddenly managed to work again and carried him stumbling over the ground to clutch feverishly at Even as if he feared he would suddenly disappear again. “What – what the fuck are you doing here?”

Even blushed and he looked down. “I came to see you,” he shrugged, avoiding Isak’s eyes. “I wanted to see you graduate.”

“And – and all this?” Isak reached down and picked up the hamper. “You brought this – for me?”

“Well, the thing you said when we – up at the hut, you know? About how you didn’t think your family would come see you at passing-out?” Even glanced over Isak’s shoulder at Mamma and Jonas sitting cross-legged on the bedsheet with the beer. “I thought I’d surprise you, so you weren’t on your own. But - I'm glad to see you're not."

Isak’s body moved before he was capable of conscious thought, and threw himself into Even’s arms. Even made a surprised but delighted noise and Isak wound his arms round his neck, kissing him with a rapturous intensity as he pressed himself against him. Even dropped the luncheon basket and the champagne bottle with a fizzing thud on the ground and kissed him hungrily back.

Around them Isak could hear scattered gasps and laughter as their embrace drew attention across the picnic lawn, the leaking champagne bottle jerking and writhing at their feet as it emitted a pressurised fountain of froth and bubbles that very soon had them soaking wet.

Not that they noticed, or indeed cared.

“Oh my God, Even’s back!” screamed Chris Berg at Noora delightedly in the background. “Didn’t I tell you, baby?"”

“Ok, so you can give me my ten dollars back, Yousef,” said Sana’s voice. “I called it right, didn’t I, bitch?”

 “Who the hell _is_ that?” he heard Jonas muttering to himself.

“I don’t know, but he’s very handsome!” Mamma exclaimed. “It’s like the last scene in _An Officer And A Gentleman_ when Richard Gere comes to the factory all dressed up in his uniform to carry his _kjæreste_ away!”

“Oh God, does one of us have to carry the other off now?” muttered Isak in Even’s ear. “Because I’m the officer here, so I guess that makes you the gentleman.”

“Well, I’m no _gentleman_ , as you well know, but I’ll carry _you_ , if you want,” grinned Even, kissing him forcefully and provocatively. In revenge, Isak picked him up and twirled him around to scattered applause from their already very-drunk friends, before lowering him to the ground for another kiss.  

“Nope, we’re not going anywhere. Come sit down and meet - " he took a deep breath - "meet my family.” He turned to Jonas and Mamma who were eyeing them in some surprise, never taking his hand from Even’s for one second.

“Mamma? Jonas? This is – this is Even.”

“Hey dude!” Jonas extended a cheerful hand, managing to contain his rather delighted surprise. “This is all a total surprise to me, man, but you’re obviously just the tonic for Issy. I’ve never seen him look like this, ever!”

Isak, smiling and red-faced and glowing, shot a glance at his mother and was agreeably amazed to see her looking as star-struck by Even as Isak felt himself. “Are you Isak’s boyfriend?” she asked with an eager smile, and Isak felt his stomach lurch.

Jonas leaned over urgently. "It's OK, Isak. She's spent a lot of time at a new church lately. They have a gay vicar and I think - I think she's changed her mind about a lot of things."

Isak shook his head, bewildered. His mother talking about _boyfriends_. This was a _lot._ “We – we haven’t discussed that yet, Mamma,” he stammered, but Even laughed merrily. “Well, as you mention it, I guess I am. If he’ll have me, of course.”

Butterflies swooped through Isak’s entire body and he looked up in shock at Even who shrugged. “What? It’s the truth. Maybe they’ll send you to the ends of the earth but I guess I’ll just have to be an Army wife for a bit – or a privileged Army brat, as you like to keep calling me.”

“Really?” whispered Isak, hardly daring.

Even stared intently back. “Really, really, really.”

“Um, mate, are you going to get that champagne?” Jonas pointed at the still-frothing champagne bottle. “Seems kind of a waste of good liquor.”

“Oh, yes! Fancy a glass?” Even bent down and uncorked it with a flourish, spraying Isak in the face accidently-on-purpose. “Oops. Sorry.”

“You’re such a brat,” scowled Isak, wiping his face with the back of his sleeve and Even smirked at him aggravatingly. “I knew you couldn’t get through one minute of time together without insulting me, Valtersen.”

“Fuck off, Naesheim,” muttered Isak fondly, leaning on his shoulder and stealing a kiss from him as Even unpacked the luncheon basket and handed round the food; smørbrøds and krumkake and pots of lutefisk.

As they all began to eat, he scooted a little closer to Even so he could whisper, “I might not be sent to the ends of the earth, you know."

"Hum, what?" Even licked his lips and gazed at him curiously. "How come?"

Isak's heart pounded. "I’ve been offered a posting in Oslo for the next three years. Tryggvason’s job at the Krigsskolen has come up.”

Even swallowed slowly, looking as delighted and thrown as Isak had ever seen him, large blue eyes searching his face.

“Here in Oslo? And you’re going to take it?”

“Maybe? Yes?” Isak gazed at him. “If – if you’re going to be in Oslo too, then I thought …”

Even’s face broke into a smile of pure joy. “ _Yes_ ,” he promised, leaning forward to plant a quick kiss on Isak’s lips. “I'd love my soldier-machine to stay in Oslo for me.”

“You’re such a prick,” murmured Isak lovingly, chasing his mouth.

“No, _you’re_  the prick,” whispered Even, teasing him with kisses.

“Okay, okay!” Jonas broke in, flustered, raising a bubbly glass of champagne in one hand and a beer bottle in the other. “You guys can thrash out the details of who's the biggest prick later. In the meantime, let’s just enjoy the day!”

 

 

**THE END** **(BONUS EPILOGUE FOLLOWS AFTER THIS)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this far and for all your lovely comments! I had such fun writing this that I added a bonus epilogue (to follow after this) - smutty, of course! Enjoy!
> 
> Here's the last scene of An Officer And A Gentleman that's referenced in the fic: I saw the musical last month so I decided to nick the title! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9oQs_Fs2Ic8


	9. Life Is Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One year on and it's Isak and Even's anniversary ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We never did get that shower scene from Julie cos the stupid hotel shower was too small to film, so anyway, a quick smutty drabble of an epilogue for y’all, enjoy! Thank you for reading and for all your lovely comments!

[ ](https://ibb.co/jCKi6K)

**LOCATION: PENTHOUSE SUITE, HOTEL RADISSON, OSLO**

**ONE YEAR LATER**

**LOCAL TIME: 2121**

“Oh God, fuck,” groaned Even, head thrown back and sweating palms braced on the steamed-up glass of the shower walls. “Please, sir, _please_ , I can’t any more …”

From where he knelt on the slippery shower floor, Isak wiped the hot spray out of his dripping eyes and looked up in satisfaction. Even looked wrecked as hell, barely holding himself up on trembling legs under the hard jets of water pulsing from the showerhead, his blond hair streaked wetly across his face.

“It’s Lieutenant Valtersen to you, cadet,” Isak said crisply. “Stay at attention, please.”

“Fuck you, Lieutenant Valtersen,” moaned Even as Isak took him teasingly in his mouth again, tasting the tiny sour bubbles of precum that glistened on the blunt nub of his cock as it slid wetly between his lips. Even swore at him and Isak grinned, pulling off with a smacking pop. “No thrusting please, cadet, stay in your position.”

Isak loved this; weekly days off from the Krigsskolen spent with Even; dinners, galleries or trips out, visiting their friends, his mother or Even’s parents, before racing back to Even’s tiny flat where they could finally be alone. Today was their anniversary, or what passed as an anniversary; so Isak had splashed out on the most expensive penthouse hotel room he could find.

Sometimes he felt afraid at what would happen when his three-year Oslo posting ended; where he might be sent, and what he and Even would do then. But at others, he felt content to exist in the here and the now, and when he was in Even’s arms it seemed that the future would take care of itself.

“Please, Lieutenant Valtersen,” begged Even, trembling with the effort of holding himself back, and Isak grinned wickedly. He loved tonguing at his boyfriend’s fat, dripping cock to rile him; squeezing his bursting shaft in one hand and playing with his hardening balls with the other as he forbade Even to come. Sometimes he would edge Even for hours, days, sometimes even week to week, enjoying the quivering power contained in Even’s need that only Isak could control. In the run up to their anniversary he had held Even back for the last thirteen days, bringing him mercilessly to the brink again and again before demanding that he stand down.

“I can’t hold it, it’s too much, sir –” Even practically bellowed, and Isak palmed himself in pleasure; he’d had Even hard and repeatedly all that afternoon, filling him up in every position he could think of, delighting in denying Even his release in the very same moment that Isak was enjoying his.

“As your commanding officer, cadet, I – argh!”

Isak’s voice broke off abruptly; Even had reached down, and pulled him to his feet, cock slapping against his stomach like the arm of a crane. “What are you doing, cadet?” gasped Isak into his sweating neck. “Are you being insubordinate to me, Naesheim?”

“I always was insubordinate,” smirked Even, pushing Isak back hard against the cold tiled wall coursing with water. “Rules are made to be broken, don’t you know that?”

“Oh, so you’re my rebellious sub now, are you?” whispered Isak, not without a certain amount of pleasure at this sudden turn of events, winding his arms around Even’s neck as his boyfriend squatted and slipped his hands under Isak’s haunches to pull him up.

“I really am, and I’m going to fuck you now, Captain whether you like it or not, so shut the fuck up.”

Isak’s heartrate kicked up at Even’s words; he loved being topped by his boyfriend, but very seldom did he let him do it. But when they did, it was a rush like nothing else.

“Go on then, you little bitch,” he muttered. “Do your worst.” 

Even scowled and lined himself up, sinking forward firmly and deliberately. “Don’t tempt me, Captain.” 

“Aaaah,” Isak groaned, arching his back, waiting for the breach, needing it, as Even let him slip and slide slowly down the length of his dick until his ass was flush against Even’s groin and his cock stiff against Even’s stomach. His legs wound around Even’s waist as Even braced him against the streaming shower wall, hands gripping his ass to steady him.

“Marry me, you whiny little prick,” groaned Even into his mouth as he began to rut. “Will you marry me?”

“What?” cursed Isak, bouncing in shock on Even’s dick, swollen to nearly twice its size from days and days of backed-up lust. “Why would I marry you, you insubordinate brat?”

 “Because you love me,” stuttered Even, thighs trembling, bending his knees to thrust up into Isak, unevenly and needily. “Marry me, you whiny little bitch, you know you want to …”

Isak’s body rocked from the force of Even’s lunges, sliding helplessly up and down the slippery shower tiles. “Ugh, okay, I’ll marry you – just don’t fucking stop doing that –”

“So you will?” groaned Even. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes, it’s a fucking yes! I’ll marry you, you precious little bitch of an Army wife, now shut the fuck up!”

 “That’s it, sir, I’m going to come,” warned Even, his teeth sharp on Isak’s collarbone. “I’m going to come and there’s nothing you can do about it, sir –”

“Come inside me then, baby,” whispered Isak, grasping at him. “Come inside me.”

He closed his eyes in the wet mess of spray and sweat as he felt Even start to work himself up to his finale, balls slapping wetly against Isak’s ass and his own stiff cock sliding against Even’s stomach. Their bodies swayed and shook as the wave overtook them both, spurting in a hot mess over and inside each other until they couldn’t tell where one of them began and the other one ended. 

They didn’t worry about tomorrow. Tomorrow could take care of itself.

All they had – all anybody had – was now.

 

*** TRANSMISSION ENDS ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaannnnd it's finally done!!! Thank you to all the organisers and participants of the Reverse Big Bang - it's been great fun and HUGELY tiring but I hope you enjoyed yourselves as much as I did, hehe!!
> 
> Big shout out to the amazing artist Muzisa who created all the fabulous art and who uncomplainingly produced multi new versions of her pictures for me at midnight the day before posting without punching me - thank you so much honey!
> 
> Her full tumblr is at: @mu-zi-light (LoveThem2121 on A03) go check it out.
> 
> Right, I'm off to read some more of the fantastic fic in Reverse Big Bang!!!

**Author's Note:**

> If you're enjoying yourself so far, come say hi to me on twitter @everyoung2017
> 
> List of Norwegian/ Army references (mostly UK but most militaries will have their own version)
> 
>  
> 
> * Oslo "Krigsskolen" (War School) is the military academy in Linderud, Oslo, that trains cadets to be officers from age 18+.  
> * The School of Winter Warfare (extreme cold weather training) is in Terningmoen, Eastern Norway where cold-weather graduation exercises take place.  
> * The snow season in the Rondane/ Kjolen Mountains where the field mission takes place lasts until May
> 
> Cadet - Soldier in training before graduation  
> Field mission - An outdoor training exercise, in this case to pass graduation  
> Cherokee - Army helicopter, the Norwegian army uses mostly US or UK-made aircraft  
> BV - A tracked vehicle with treads, able to pass through thick snow and rock  
> MVP - "Most Valuable Player" - ie, the person on a team who can do pretty much anything  
> Pulk - a small sled for transporting equipment or people  
> Quinzee/ Snow-Grave - a dug-out scrape in the snow for emergency shelter  
> Gaustad Hospital - Hospital for those suffering mental illness in Oslo  
> Krigsskolen - "War School" - Oslo's military academy  
> Winter War School - School for Extreme Warfare in Terningmoen barracks, Eastern Norway  
> Rondane Mountains/ Rondane Nasjonalpark - Large area in Eastern/ Northeastern Norway where snow season lasts until May  
> WikiLeaks - Website that publishes sensitive information, often leaked documents exposing government/ war secrets
> 
> (I've slightly tinkered with the geography and the logistical exercises for the purposes of this fic, don't @ me! hehe)


End file.
